A Fourth World Country in The War of Three Powers
by mttspiii
Summary: <html><head></head>A faux history of a Fourth-World Country, the Philippines, after being bumped down from Third-World country status due to the Empire of the Rising Sun existing during and possibly after the faux War of the Three Powers.</html>
1. Once a Third World Country

The Philippines. A small archipelago in the tropics of South-East Asia. No matter what timeline it existed, whether in this real world or in either timeline of Red Alert it could possibly exist it, always seemed to be condemned to have a bloody war in the 20th century.

The Philippines is an American colony ever since the United States of America bought it from Spain in 1899, caveat emptor. Even with its _re_declaration of independence in 1946, the Americans still had military bases in the Philippines, which was handy since Stalin's war rumbled too close to American interests scattered around Asia.

To their horror, however, the Soviets made a rare diplomatic success, which allowed them to lease Philippine soil for their own military bases in the Philippines. As to why the Soviets thought this was a good move no one knew (many still think the vodka served during the meeting was laced with LSD by an idiot spy), but what is sure is that this caused an uproar which almost threatened USA-Philippine relations again, but by using free market doctrine arguments against themselves the Philippine government silenced its primary critic and then recognized the Soviet bases as legal, allowing the Philippine government to choose the best prices for its lands, effectively doubling its own income.

Eventually over time the essence of the idyllic lands seemed to seep into the psyche of the forces, with the commanders of the opposing bases going out together for bowling and fishing while their soldiers play with terror drones and man-cannons. Unlike Europe, where the Allies and the Soviets are beefing after the Apollos Ambush Twinblade Squadron Incident(sic), the Philippines could not be farther from war despite having some of the most advanced Soviet and Allied divisions deployed there.

Until President Ackerman declared war that is.

With that declaration, the full force of the Soviet and Allied forces in their respective hands began to move...to the beaches for a scheduled vacation break. Their commanding officers have secretly given orders to not do their job of calculated death and destruction, while this mess is being hopefully sorted out between Washington and Moscow.

In a smart move, the Philippine government also banned any combat between the two opposing factions in Philippine territory, which can expand for hundreds of kilometers in the oceans. Since none of the soldiers wanted to kill each other anyway (especially if they had to go ridiculously far in the seas to do so), this ban was easily enforced and the Philippines is totally back to being an idyllic archipelagic tropical paradise.

The Soviet commander would knowingly send declawed Terror Drones against the lone Prism tower (much to the dismay of the robotics guy who kept them as pets) just to tell their superiors that the Allied presence is too strong to risk an attack anytime soon, while the Allied comander would report the handful of Terror Drones as "...a sign of the Soviet juggernaut held back by their knowledge of my superior skill...but still a juggernaut nonetheless which I cannot kill..." Then half the price for the Terror Drones would be refunded by the Allies, with all soldiers encouraged to chip in a few cents "to continue our peaceful war...against the Red Star". Thus the Pacific front was pacified (pun intended).


	2. Names

But then, that would be boring, right? Fortunately the Empire of the Rising Sun expanded southwards into South-East Asia to create the Greater World Co-Prosperity Sphere, and are armed and willing to kill any and all that oppose them. This meant taking the Philippines as well, but the crafty Philippine government invoked a Garamond-size-4 defensive pact clause in the Base-Lease contracts of _both_ the Americans and the Soviets, instantly making this puny, pathetic side-switching country the most powerful military force ever to grace the Earth.

"1010. At least, on paper...But years of peaceful coexistence had left these once-elite mercenaries of both factions decadent and weak, just waiting to be crushed by sheer destiny itself. Not even their peaceful coexistence can save them from the Empire's DESTINY! 1011."

That is Admiral 898. A robot admiral who far excels any other naval officer in written exams, but is easily taken by military surprises it had not encountered before. A steely semiconductor-hearted robot that takes the most logical step to any command according to a very strict flowchart which it can easily process with its 512 MHz superprocessor, which is easily the best and most advanced brain in the world (according to itself). It's also programmed to give bombastic speeches to inspire the troops, or at least make them laugh with its ridiculous accent.

"Or at least, that is what the hundred-or-so Burst Drone patrols today indicated. Let's wait and see first if they would fight each other, or reinforce themselves further."

That is Commander Ninja (not his real name). A commander who prefers to act behind the scenes and use stealth to win, if possible without even firing a shot. He always wears a mask, he is incredibly hard to contact because he keeps switching telephone numbers, almost half of his troops are committed to espionage and intelligence (sometimes even against each other), and he is always equipped with a man-portable gap generator (a gift from the Allies from more peaceful times, after they tested a permanent S.H.R.I.N.K. ray on it for fun). In short, a totally paranoid nut promoted all the way up due to his ability to function even without an intelligence officer, which meant less auxiliary troops and more Rocket Angels for the Empire.

"1010. If the enemy is weaker than us, we can annihilate them. Begin at site Red. Their massive tank battalions there are helpless against us. 1011."

Meanwhile, in Fort Taruc at San Fernando, La Union (pun unintended; it really is the most likely place to spot such a facility), Ivan was having coffee. A proletariat gentleman, a tank-driving commanding officer from Russia, and half of the reason why the Philippines is not yet alight with Soviet or Allied munitions, Commander Ivan Ivanovskivich loves his coffee as much as he loves his tanks. Indeed, part of the reason why he uses declawed Terror Drones in his mock war with the local Allied base under General Bob is that those mechanical arachnids remind him too much of the destruction of his own Terror Drone Surprise upgraded-tanks (again, to the grief of his local robotician Vlad). He also looks forward to having a glorious victory against the Allies over South-East Asia, but then some noise from a Century flying overhead disturbed his daydream. He went back to trying to read the font-size-4 clause that legally tied him and his rival Gen. Bob against the Japanese, really wondering how paranoid the local government could be, and thinking how he could easily crush the local militia had it not been for the Allied presence at Clark Air Base.

More Centuries overhead. He then saw Vindicators incoming as well. Fearing the worst, he placed the whole base under full alert, but to not shoot down the aircraft unless they bombed first.

They just flew past, off to the West Philippine Sea. Loud rumbles came from the blue horizon, and soon the wing flew back very much battered and pursued by odd-looking aircraft with what seemed to be blue pew-pew lasers. Ivan and his troops in their tanks watched, hesitating to fire at either. None of the Soviets knew what was going on, but instead watched this interesting dogfight as Vindicators and a Century dropped into the countryside before blowing up some rice. The odd-looking pursuers suddenly dropped as well to everyone's surprise, but instead of crashing into a fireball they...origamied into things...and began shooting a bunch of Hammer tanks with their blue anti-aircraft pew-pews.

The tank crews were amused at how the blue pew-pews illuminated their armor before noticing that they were actually autocannons, and that some rounds actually got through the steel cavity armor. They then activated their Tsarskys, ripped the weird things apart, then got out to examine the weapon. There, between slabs of human meat and jet fuel, was really an autocannon.

Then BOOM! happened.


	3. Trying To Be a Serious Fanfic

Shirada cannons. 400 mm. Ever since the prototype .13 calibre superheated slug was launched from a crudely-made peashooter the corporation knew its potentials are massive. Without the need for stowing that much explosives onboard, Japanese battleships are now less likely to blow up, as well as the usual bonuses to accuracy and awesomeness, with bonus points for not using conventional weaponry. Apparently the Japanese used so many technologies in the war that the stress of logistics must have been so great, but they don't care; they're too busy achieving their destiny. Commander Ivanovskivich doesn't care either; at risk are the things he loves: his coffee and his tanks. Superheated slugs from the horizon have just tore a gaping hole in the War Factory large enough for a Kirov Airship to float up, while Tsunami Tanks are rolling in west. He just spilled his steaming hot coffee onto his lap in the blast, and saw his personal command Apocalypse Tank blasted to pieces. Good morning to him, his men, and his pants.

The intercom is much more alive than he can remember (except that time when bored Engineers linked the whole town's telephone traffic to it at the same time), but he is most focused at the voice of the paranoid Akula Submarine captain cursing at the madness of Japan as while describing the view: a Shogun Battleship is actually going to ram the submarine. Such is life. Then a blink and a general order of retreat later, he was then violently ejected out of his MCV by a lucky shot from a Tsunami Tank. Not his best day today, it seems. Then his MCV was reduced to rubble by the bombardment. At least he is still alive, but the day is going to be long. Painfully long that it was numbing him.

Meanwhile Commander Ninja (not his real name) is having an argument with his co-commander admiral over when to land. Commander Ninja (not his real name) insists to invade the land by nightfall, since he believes in stealth despite the fact that the thunderous roar of his MCV alone unpacking is obviously sufficient to give away his position. Admiral 898 could not understand his train of logic though, since stealth is not exactly part of his programming because there are so few places to hide at sea, and those that can can be easily marked by an exploding Yari.

Gen. Bob meanwhile is giving orders to rush the repairs of his aircraft. He would knock out the ships from his far-inland airbases, while the Soviets would mop up any beachheads. Less work for him, more work for the Soviets, who likely would recieve the majority of the force as well, so less deaths for his men. The Garamond-size-4 clause suggested that, and he is not in the mood to disagree since he is a very archaic remnant of the US Army Air Corps and needs some sleep.

Such is a day in life in the War of Three Powers. 


	4. Rising Sun to Sunset

Now that the threat of overdescription is apparent and very much willing to make this story quite boring indeed, we would cut back from all these zoom-ins on the personal perspectives except when it is cool or funny.

Or maybe not.

The Imperial Invasion of the Philippines began with the massive naval bombardment of La Union on what historians retroactively nicknamed "Day X", which occurred during the War of the Three Powers. The tactical objective of the Empire is to make a beach head forward ground base, with the optimal site being the Soviet base in La Union under Commander Ivanovskivich, both of which are to be flattened. The Soviet commander, anticipating a ground assault against the local Allied presence, was not prepared against long-range naval bombardment, and instead ordered a fighting retreat deep into the Philippine jungle. However, he picked some soldiers to stay to cover the retreating armor, and was somehow forcibly joined to his covering force himself by a lucky shot from an enemy Tsunami tank that blasted the Commander out of his command MCV.

However, General Bob spotted the Imperial fleet in advance, after a Surveillance Sweep intercepted the Imperial fleet heading to the Soviets. The fleet seemed to him to be a fleet of heavily-armed warships eerily similar to the Sword-class medium cruisers the US Navy helped design with the Japanese Navy some years back, only gaudily colored, ornately designed, and lacking all deck guns. Suspicious of the mere presence of such a powerful navy within Philippine territory, the Philippine government requested that the air general send an Apollo fighter to guide the navy out of the waters, while putting all Allied forces on high alert, as stipulated in the infamous Garamond-size-4 defensive pact clause.

Submerged discs shot down the fighter. No one knew what were those, but what was sure is that naval task force is to be sunk by all countries bound to the Garamond-size-4 defensive pact clause, including all forces under General Bob.

Knowing that they had been spotted, Commander Ninja (not his real name) decided to shroud the whole task force in his newest development: the Sea-mount Smoke Emitter, which allows ships to emit heavy smoke that would not fly off so easily upon a light sea gale. Soon every ship was mostly shrouded in smoke except for their bridge, while the individual tanks and transports were totally hidden by their own teeny-tiny smoke emitters. Like a swimming, armored, heavily armed army of ninja indeed. The advance was resumed.

What Commander Ninja (not his real name) did not know is that Artemis Precision Bomber pilots tended to have a predilection to colorful smoke, which is why their targets are marked with gaudy bright smoke beacons. The Sea-mount Smoke Emitter did not hide the ships in the vastness of the sea anyway, but even attracted strikes from giddy, near-rabid Artemis pilots from all over the sector, leading to almost a quarter of the invasion fleet getting very badly mauled.

After that nasty wave of Artemis strikes, the ships are then bombed by the American Air Force under Gen. Bob, with Vindicator squadrons training their laser bombs straight at the battleships' bridges (since those are the only things exposed in the smoke) with critically lethal results. Century bombers also came in to bomb the large clouds of smoke traveling alongside the navy, but were warded off by the massive amount of VX fighters. Eventually the mauled forces of Commander Ninja (not his real name) and Admiral 898 were able to set a forward naval base off the north-western coast of Luzon.

Oops. Only the robot admiral deployed his MCV. The ninja (not his real name) commander elected to hide behind and wait for the exact moment to land, which is of course night, because no proper ninja works at daytime.

By the time Commander Ivanovskivich was done with his morning rituals and is about to take a sip of nice hot coffee, the battered Allied air fleet was trying desperately to dislodge the combined army-fleet force growing increasingly more able to fend, and then swat out, those pesky American aircraft. Admiral 898 has also personally adjusted the sights of his battleships on the Soviet Airbases and puny Reactors just off the shore, while the rest of the fleet is going to shatter the Soviet Naval Yard, then clear the landing site for the fussy ninja (not his real name) commander.

After this, the events in this chapter's second paragraph would have only just begun, which ended with most of the Soviet forces and assets retreating inward while repelling the first Imperial invasion force to land, which are then assigned to guard the beach head against any Philippine-sided force that may disrupt the first landfall. Already badly lacking in available Tengus and Rocket Angels to fend off yet another Allied bombardment run, with the anti-air support of the Sea-Wings limited to, of course, the sea, the Imperial high Command was anxious to deploy an MCV on the shore immediately.

But upon Commander Ninja (not his real name)'s insistence that the invasion plans be pushed back to nightfall, like a true ninja would. The 12-hour delay in the timetables were sufficient to send the Soviets well inland and out of range of battleship fire, while the Allies have largely repaired whatever was left of their damaged aircraft and are in the process of procuring new planes bureaucratically.

And the day has barely ended yet. Fast-paced, no?


	5. Turiano Carpio, Commando

The Philippine Government is said to be an unpredictably crafty entity, with its magnum opus being its defensive clause somehow tying the Allies and the Soviets together as its allies despite the two factions being at war with each other. Combined, these two factions represent nine-tenth of all known military power in the world, or at least it did before the Empire of the Rising Sun showed up.

Now the Philippine Government knew how much havoc those Japanese can wreak upon their combined allies, with news awash of Soviets losing Siberia (not that it was useful anyway) and American reinforcements being delayed by what was to be called the Black Tortoise floating fortress. Cmdr. Ivanovskivich is missing in action that noontime, his La Union Armor Base is flattened, and his units are on a fighting retreat. Gen. Bob's Clark Flying Circus is in need of a lot of replacement aircraft and pilots, as well as service crew to repair the remaining aircraft. The sovereignty of the very nation it at risk from those Northerners.

Furthermore, the invaders have already deployed a naval base, with some weird robot claiming to be "Admiral 898" having already uploaded an ultimatum for the Philippines on Youtube. Naturally, user PhilippineGovernment commented "No.", but they knew it would not be enough. To prepare for the inevitable, they have once again used legal tactics on the local Soviet and Allied forces to acquire basic technologies for self-defense. The technology from both superpowers, while very simple (as in Commander's Challenge in Uprising simple), is still a large boost to the fledgling Philippine Constabulary.

The Philippine Government knew that despite having all Allied, Soviet, and Philippine Constabulary forces at their side, the war would not be won so easily, if ever it could be won. There are just not enough soldiers, or arms, or ammunition, or fuel, or technology, or logistics, or planning, or weapon systems, or whatnot to facilitate a successful defense of the Philippines. They, however, had a secret weapon: a man.

Not just a man, not just any ordinary man, but the Philosopher of War himself, Turiano Carpio. Employed in the Philippine Government as a professor and Philosopher of War in the Philippine Military Academy in Fort Gregorio Del Pilar, this man may seem unassuming, but is obviously more powerful than he appears that the Philippine Government could put so much trust in him.

**In-game Unit Profile:** Turiano Carpio

**Designation:** Philosopher, Commando, Support  
><strong>Training Headquarters:<strong> Fort Gregorio Del Pilar, Baguio City  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Philippine Academy  
><strong>Creed:<strong> "Fight for the right cause. My cause."

**Accessories:**  
>» <em>Barong Tagalog<em> with proper ranks and insignia  
>» Regulation slacks and spats<br>» Unique Ceremonial Baton  
>» A series of cassette tapes of his book <em>On the Philosophy of War, 57th Edition<em>  
>» SuperUltraMegaphone with Cassette Player and Videoke Accompaniment<p>

**History:**

Originally a military instructor in the Philippine Constabulary, he has always excelled in military theory. He eventually created a new course in the curriculum on military philosophy, which eventually had to be considered an optional course due to its sheer difficulty under him. Despite these shortcomings, he still plowed through despite having no predecessors, becoming a pioneer in military philosophy, advanced military philosophy, greater military philosophy, advanced greater military philosophy...you get the idea right? He has authored no less than 2,076 papers concerning the philosophy of war in just 8 years, and since there is none else who has reached his level of competence in the topic, he critiques his own works as well. Such is his understanding of war itself that he somehow managed to...transcend into War itself, somewhat.

Eventually given a chance to prove his theories on the battlefield, he roams the area, playing his audiobooks on war philosophy for a chance to discuss it with someone, or anyone. The sheer deepness of his philosophy is itself a weapon though, based on the students he has rendered brain-dead in his short stint as professor for Philosophy of War 11. Imperial soldiers have nicknamed him the _Sairen_, or Siren, due to his megaphone's mere babbling being very lethal despite the language barrier.

Indeed, he has become so feared despite his lack of weapons that handbooks on official Imperial military doctrine have been hastily scrawled with "If you hear a strange tongue very different from Allied or Soviet grunts or oinks, cover your ears and run very f*ckin far away immediately!"

**Game unit:**

He is a commando-class unit, and thus is somewhat resistant to all kinds of damage like most commandos, but not because of bulletproof bikinis or psychic powers, but because he transcends damage almost entirely. His constant playing of his audiobooks creates somewhat of a "Philosopher's Aura" around him, stunning enemy man and machine alike no matter what language or accent they speak. As long as these units stay in that aura, they continue to be stunned, and infantry take damage from the sheer weight of his philosophy until they die of brain hemorrhage. And the closer the unit is to the philosopher, the more those units can hear his lessons, thus taking even more damage. When really close, his philosophies become so substantial, so heavy, and so deep that it can actually inflict physical damage, allowing him to damage and eventually destroy structures and vehicles.

He, however, doesn't carry weapons or armor, partly because he has transcended conventional weapons and armor and couldn't seem to wield either of them. Not that he needs to anyway, since he transcends damage and his philosophies are very destructive anyway.

He also can travel through water by transcending such simple terrain features; as such he is as much of a threat on water as he is on land. Thankfully his traveling has not yet transcended cliffs, mountains, or buildings, but his aura can.

As he grows in veterancy, his SuperUltraMegaphone is simply upgraded to provide a more crisp, understandable sound even at greater distances, increasing the Philosopher's Aura damage output and area. At Elite status, he can also stun low-flying aircraft like helicopters and the Sky-Wing, rendering them immobile and just hovering above the ground, ready to be shot down by some other unit.

His secondary ability allows him to _conclude _on the chapter his audiobook is discussing, instantly convincing all opposing units (and perhaps buildings, if in Elite status) within his aura that he is correct, and that they _all_ must fight on _his_ side of the battle. This has a cooldown of course, but mass persuasion? Nasty little guy, eh?

**Notes From the Field:**

_Armed...with PHILOSOPHY!_ - Itself an unconventional weapon, but who knew that philosophy could stun, kill, and (if up close) crush the opposition by sheer substance? And he _emits_ this damaging philosophy aura with just an audiobook of his lessons.

_Transcendence_ - Despite being unarmored, his very transcendence into his philosophies makes him ridiculously resistant to damage, as well as allowing him to travel on water and land with equal ease.

_Rank Has Its Privileges_ - His philosophies had led to his fellow soldiers having seizures, which is why the Philippine government requires that he prove he can control his philosophies before he is given better megaphones, which increases the damage and area of his "Philosopher's Aura". They still promote him afterward due to the services he renders for the country. Once he reaches Elite status though, he then outranks his supply officer and then simply procures the best megaphones for himself, which allows him to be heard even by low-altitude aircraft with stunning results.

_In conclusion..._ - Any ordinary guy can always carry a copy of his audiobooks and walk around with that Philosopher's Aura, but is risking his life and sanity doing so. But what his audiobooks cannot do is to brilliantly conclude his lesson so well that any soldiers in his Philosopher's Aura are instantly convinced to fight for his side. Turiano Carpio has to wait for his audiobook to finish the chapter before he could conclude, though, so there's a waiting time before he can conclude - and convince - again.


	6. The Second in Command

By 1800H of Day X, the sun has sufficiently set down the horizon to be dark. For the Soviets in retreat it would be their first night out of base, since they just lost their base. They are not yet out of danger though, since that is the only Soviet base. Which means that they are somewhat lost. To make it worse for the Soviet troops, their acting commander is Savieroski Galloski, who is...just mean.

Born as Saviero Gallo somewhere in Sicily during the 90's from a bourgeoisie family, he is a skilled leader in his own right. As a teenager, he turned his friends' typical rascalry into organized crime, then when one of its members angered the local Cosca, he was the first to jump ship. Because he was ruthless like that. However his stint as a member of the Sicilian Mafia is very short, since they don't like turncoats, and so he decided to make his mark somewhere else, like Russia, because he believes that they are idiots who will accept him as a god.

Of course, it didn't work, because he is a total jerk, and thus manages to go to prison. And despite him being imprisoned and knowing this, the Sicilian Mafia put a bounty on his head; but since the bounty was barely enough to buy a loaf of bread Saviero survived. Eventually Saviero became good with the jail's local Vor, but double-crossed him to get a pardon for jaywalking. Upon his release though, "Jerkassery with an Officer of the Law" has _just been_ considered a very serious crime, as in "_a few minutes ago, the Romanovs had just decided that disrespecting officers and Russians in general is a serious offence, so get back in your cell_" type of serious crime. Because he remained a jerk even while in prison again, the prison staff and the prisoners themselves decided that he is perfect for the Great War, and despite all the rules against cooperating with the government in any way the two groups both eagerly conscripted him into the Imperial Russian Air Force since it seemed to be the most excruciating way to kill him.

As a member of the Tsar's air fleet, and then the Soviet Air Force, his greatest military achievement is to shoot down an already-crippled Fokker in his first (and only) stint as gunner in the famed Ilya Muromets. However, his ruthlessness to shoot down that Fokker made him shoot the bomber's engines as well because the Russian plane was going too fast and he was fast losing sight of his target. By the time he managed to make the Fokker crash, his bomber lost two engines and a whole left wing because he shot it himself, and plummeted with its prey. He was the only survivor of the crash, and thus took the claim for all the damage inflicted on the Hungarians.

As a glorified flyboy, and very old at that, he despises at the tankers and ground troops that compose the forces at his command. His troops also know it. It will be a very long retreat.

Meanwhile, their actual commander, Cmdr. Ivan is watching Commander Ninja (not his real name)'s troops move stealthily into the beach. he could tell, because despite the landing operation being conducted at night for increased stealth he could hear the sound of the whole army landing, as well as see the smoke further illuminated by the Imperials' own lights. The whole shebang was as stealthy as a ninja indeed - if he was running around screaming and on fire.

And that is exactly what Ivan is planning to do.


	7. Fort Flying Down

Almost every commander has an ace up its sleeve, whether he intended it to be or not. Commander Ivan of the Soviet Philippine Heavy-Armored Command (a title he made for himself out of vanity) has decided that his base should always have power, as in electricity, to convince his higher-ups that he has the infrastructure to support the dreaded Tesla Tank that that blockhead Oleg Vodnik is withholding. So he built Super Reactors.

But not just your ordinary run-of-the-Construction Yard Super Reactors. He built them _underground_, where instead of putting the volatile chemicals in a safe neat place he could simply make giant tubs and dump what he nicknamed "Power Borscht" in it to provide near-unlimited power for his factories. And he got _lots_ of the substance stored underground, sometimes rather haphazardly beside ammunition and ordnance. That is his personal source of pride, to be able to fulfill a Five-Year Plan's energy production requirement underneath his treads, and that in just _two_ years if he really wanted. And all that just to be granted access to a tank which he could easily build with a Hammer Tank a wreck of a Stingray.

However, now his Super Reactors are in a very unstable condition, badly damaged by Imperial bombardment, It's a marvel that the Imperial MCV managed to not crash into the Power Borscht despite its sheer weight. The MCV turned into a construction yard, and nanocores rolled out to create their own puny pathetic Instant Generators. Still the base did not sink to its doom. Had the Japanese knew how much potential energy is under the ground...

Had the Allies decided to build on this very ground with their pop-out technology, they surely would have dug into their doom. Had the Soviets decided to build on the same spot their very heavy structures would surely have collapsed the support columns of the ground itself, dumping them into sinkholes of liquid energy. But it had to be the Empire with their silent, efficient, paperweight nanotechnology that builds on this land.

But now Commander Ivan had an idea. It would be risky, but it would be totally worth it. Now, **dear reader**, what happens when you destroy a Super Reactor?

Perfect. Commander Ivan decided to watch and take notes of Empire activity in case he had to fight them again, assuming he survives of course.

Commander Ninja (not his real name) is watching over the conquest of the Philippines, stealthily of course by giving commands while crouching. Not that it matters because he is inside a neon-bright Imperial Construction Yard as glowing as a lighthouse and as noisy as a The Annoying Noisy Band concert. At least he decided to turn off the smoke-emitters; he may not be as stealthy as he thinks he is, but at least the whole province would not know that his forces are there just by smell. And the smoke? It smells...ninja black. And also, his (surviving) soldiers now don't attract precision strikes from rabid, smoke-obsessed Artemis Bomber pilots.

For this invasion, Admiral 898 granted Commander Ninja (not his real name) all his/her/its war funds, with a large bonus of credits from the Emperor himself. Of course, when the Emperor claims everything it is hard to tell where the funds really came from, but what is sure that the money allowed the creation of a complete Imperial base able to deploy King Oni and Rocket Angels, with spare money to create battalions of troops. All this mass production took the whole night, and by the time the sun rose, the ninja commander (not his real name) has a whole Army Group-sized force able and ready. But since this is daytime, Commander Ninja (not his real name) decided to stealthily conceal everyone with dirt-colored tarp. The attack will start at night, like ninjas do.

Naturally this confused Commander Ivan, who is alien to time-based planning of such a degree. Nonetheless, he could see a massive invasion force, Imperial, right before his very eyes, just above his underground Super Reactors, all awkwardly covered in miscolored tarp. Some creative Imperial troopers stuck branches on their King Oni and called it a day. Some Imperial Warriors acted like a scarecrow, for stealth, despite the awkwardly painted cornfield having the shadows painted in the wrong direction; they called it a day as well. Commander Ninja (not his real name) meanwhile is "harvesting" rice on the tarp, despite it not being the season to reap; he calls it a day and hates it very much for hampering all his activities like invasions and assassinations. Why, he asks himself, must there be day when he is a ninja, and a _true_ ninja, that works exclusively at night?

Commander Ivan, hiding in the rubble of his Reactor, has in his hands a remote explosive detonator, having rigged all the Super Reactors and underground ordnance the night before to explode at a push of a button.

When he could see that Commander Ninja (not his real name) manage to exhaust the ridiculously massive amount of credits, by not making any more Shinobis needlessly, he decided that the time is right. He has to go back to his troops and coordinate the retreat back to...wherever. But first...

He detonated the charges to the Super Reactor.

The Super Reactors, now very unstable due to Imperial bombardment and careless stacking of ammunition, exploded nicely, in a massive chain reaction, in a sequence so quick.

Hot gases spewed out as panels the thin steel shell holding the ground up shot skyhigh, some with enough force to decommission the Sky-Wing they struck. The gases incinerated flesh, exposing the bones of the foot soldiers. It melted the pesky nanobots as well, and the metals themselves that make up the Japanese invasion force. Tankbusters unlucky enough to dig in were the first to be fried, while the airborne Rocket Angels were blasted into orbit, unofficially becoming the First Space Angel battalion before they decompressed into debris that would imperil space travel for the next few centuries. Tsunami tanks were flung into the sea, King Onis were dismembered as their abdomen accelerated upwards at ridiculous G-forces. Ground VX units were punched by erupting dirt, which crumpled the paper armor, crushing its crew between their vehicles' ceiling and floor; any Japanese crew that survived the vertical compression were rendered in awkward positions inside their vehicles before being mercifully killed when their VX coffins finally returned to the ground. A complement of Wave-Force Artilleries simply shattered. The makeshift VX airforce, when not blasted all over the Philippines, were either tumbling into the ground or just plain melted and _poured_ viciously and viscously.

Commander Ninja (not his real name)'s buildings, no, his entire base, was also propelled upwards by the blast, it being simple nanocore kit structures not exactly rooted to the ground. The literal floating fortress then fell spectacularly, crumpling with a sickening and totally un-stealthy noise of alloys scrunching on each other.

Even Admiral 898's fleet was affected, with his complement of Sky Wings tumbling into his ships while a man-made tsunami capsized the IJN _Sapporo _(a typical Naginata Cruiser)_, _IJN _867-5309 _(a Naginata Cruiser that once served as the premier motel for the local red light district)_, _and IJN _Sushi _(a premier Shogun Battleship bankrolled by the Japanese Whaling Committee to defend its whaling boats against Greenpeace eco-pirates)_._

Also, a prototype Giga Fortress, simply an unarmored airborne God's Breath device made by Shirada Shipworks engineers just for kicks, was badly rattled while undergoing tests in Okinawa. This caused a spectacular crash, which led to Japanese engineers putting so much armor and redundant repair systems on the final product. Belatedly, this also led to the conclusion that the first Sky Fortress downed is actually by "_a device from the Philippines"_, though Apollo Fighter squadrons would resent anybody stating that._  
><em>

The explosion rattled windows and broke glassware all over the country, as well as neighboring countries like Siam, China, and somehow Brazil. It also led to the denudation of nearby trees; a factor that would lead to a nasty flood in the province of La Union a year later._  
><em>

Fortunately for Commander Ivan, he is one tough comrade, and survived after a long hospitalization. Commander Ninja (not his real name) was recovered from the site, and seeing what a waste of a ninja commander, was kept alive in a DevilCoat. Admiral 898 took a few days' leave to comprehend what had just happened; after that event he/she/it began to take awkward and unruly precautions in case of delayed explosive mines, such as setting bases exclusively in the sea (and relocating his Construction Yard into the nearest body of water _immediately_), and putting an Imperial Warrior on a spot for a few days to see if he blows up, before actually deploying ground forces. General Bob may be too old to notice the blast over the horizon, but he noticed the shock wave rattling apart the temporary repairs on his planes, forcing him to withhold air missions again.

And of course it delayed the invasion of the Philippines again. Yey.


	8. Chapter 8: Details Come Later

Well, that certainly was a long day.

Yep, the first two days of the Japanese invasion of the Philippines, and it took like what, 6 chapters? We'll make it shorter, aye?

So after that chapter of excruciating, gratuitous detail to the effects of a bunch of Super Reactors exploding, we continue the story. In a nutshell, the Japanese Admiral 898 was able to set up a seabase, but is in danger of being overrun by Allied aircraft under General Bob because the Japanese can't build air superiority...VX without a land-based Mecha Bay. The Japanese invasion force under Commander Ninja (not his real name), on the other hand, received the PURE RAW POWER of a whole wartime Soviet Five-Year Plan's worth of energy production...in like ten seconds, when the Soviet Cover-the-Retreat Force (consisting of Commander Ivan Ivanovskivich) detonated the highly-explosive Super Reactor facility underneath the Japanese beachhead base. Needless to say the whole army was eliminated, but surprisingly the Soviet commander survived. The Soviet retreating forces under second-in-command Savieroski Galloski, on the other hand, is going nowhere since there is no other Soviet base in the whole vicinity, or the whole Philippines for that matter.

So guess what happens next? Hints:

- The Allies and the Soviets are still at war.

- Conflict between the two factions are largely prevented in the Philippines by an informal agreement between the commandants of the respective factions.

- The second-in-command takes over after the commandant himself is considered M. I. A. in the surprise Imperial invasion.

So yes, the two old guys would fight just like the old days. General Bob of the Allies is old (he was once a member of the Army Air Corps); his idea of commanding the Clark Garrison is as some sort of semi-retirement while still offering his experience and expertise to his beloved country America. Commander Savieroski is born at about the same time as Don Vito Corleone of The Godfather, but more ruthless and less experienced in combat. However Mr. Savieroski is an excellent organizer, but his disdain of Russians (he is a racist Sicilian, which may be redundant) meant that he would not exactly be very good fighting with them as fighting _against_ them.

However, he first needs to find a suitable spot with which to mount an assault, and decided to occupy a Philippine Constabulary base in Pangasinan. Forcibly. Which was not that hard since the Philippine Constabulary is less of an armed force as it was a police force, and that shotguns are pathetic against vehicles. Savieroski simply jumped in a few Sickles that mowed down the unarmored gendarmerie. Seeing the futility of resistance now that Soviet tanks are closing in, the camp commander wisely retreated rather than turn the attack into a massacre.

The hostile takeover forced the Russian Embassy in the Philippines to declare Savieroski a 'rogue' element, a bandit _formerly_ of the Soviet Armed Forces. Not that it mattered to Savieroski, who now has a base and enough firepower to level the Philippine capital of Manila had he wanted to. He chuckled at the thought of being a rogue Red, then went back to the task on hand of crushing the Allies and their 'puppet' Philippine Republic to dominate this country for his own personal desires.

Fortunately for the Philippines the Allies remained true to the contract, and would attack the Soviets, rogue or not. However, the pressing issue is that of _yet another_ Japanese invasion force approaching the Philippines, and the the straggling Soviets would still have a hell of a time trying to survive, much less mount a proper assault on the Philippines, and its American parts.

Oops.


	9. Airforce Moves Story Faster

Commander Savieroski Galloski wakes up the next day. It was a beautiful morning, the sun shining through the cannon-blasted wall of his bulletproof custom quarters, nicely illuminating the custom-imported cypress finish of the room. The dust is rising up, scattering the rays as if they were inside an old cathedral like where Savieroski first made money by pocketing the offerings as an altar boy. Indeed, the sun was so gloriously strong that the badly-painted _Napoleon Crossing the Alps_ looked elegant, even sublime, especially with his own face superimposed on where Napoleon's face should be.

The thing is, he could not remember having a window installed in his room, and that it is weird that his personal roomcleaner/intelligence officer did not clean up the room. It doesn't matter if the room is dusty anyway; the way it somehow glorifies his bedchambers meant that he could forgive his cleaner/intel girl for this day.

Then the loud grumbling of a tank disturbed his mood; he looked out of the window and saw a lone Hammer tank rolling away. Then he noticed that his window is very roughly made; as if it was blasted by some anti-tank shell. And it really was. He could see the other buildings undamaged, except for his MCV of course. He checked if there are any soldiers left, and his cleaning lady/intelligence officer informed him that the tank crews, Ivanovskivich's elite bunch of officers specially trained and imported from the top academies of USSR itself, simply left. They carried a lot of fuel and ammunition, and simply left without even harming anything or anyone except Savieroski's own personal quarters. Not a tank remained except for that last one which just left due to it needing repairs from the Day X attack. She then braced herself against a reprimand from him; he simply smiled to the surprise and relief of the cleaner-officer.

Not that tanks mattered to him anyway. Indeed, he is even very _very_ happy that the insolent Russian tank crews left him to pester him no more. He, _Commander_ Saviero Gallo *cough* Savieroski Galloski, is a veteran aviator from even _before_ the crummy USSR was established! He doesn't need slow crappy tanks, he would prefer sleek jets to do his bidding. So he called in the High Command for Badger Bomber carpet bombing against General Bob's Clark Flying Circus base and level it with with so much bombs that the earth will burn for 5 days...except he is not quite trusted yet by High Command and denies his request; sending instead the very helpful suggestion that he first attack the enemies of the Union to prove his competence. He, after all, has an MCV with which to fund an assault against capitalists and..and those pesky Japanese. Fair enough.

The Pangasinan base is a surprisingly good spot with which to start; resources are stashed there and somehow there are ore nodes there of a generic construction. Despite losing his whiny armor assets he could still take on General Bob. So he set his Airbases to build MiGs, and more Airbases to house more MiGs, and even more for the same reason.

At this point though, he remembered that MiGs can't attack the ground, and annoyingly he remembered that right after he built a massive air fleet of them. Well, actually MiGs can inflict damage on enemy ground units, but that meant crashing into the ground and somehow crashing the graceful MiG is just a waste. Crashing aircraft is only for the Japanese Sunburst drones, which is perfectly fine since they are ugly in a league of their own (which is perhaps exactly why the Japanese prefer to use these drones in Final Squadron strikes than as actual anti-aircraft defense: the planes truly, _truly_, are ugly). Even the Allied Sky Knights deserve an audience of their own.

So looking on the itinerary of available ground-attack Soviet aircraft, Savieroski could not help but wonder how the Soviets actually managed to subdue Europe. All that the Soviets had for airborne ground-attack roles were a fragile transport chopper laden with rockets, and...**_airship_**. Big floating gas bags like the Zepplins his WWI-vintage Muromets could easily outfight any day of the week. Big floating _hydrogen_ gas bags like the LZ 130 _Hitler-fahrt_, which exploded spectacularly, apocryphally when Chancellor Adolf Hitler himself tried to ignite his own vegetable-induced farts inside the airship in a moment of drunken stupor. Of course that story is likely silly Soviet propaganda; it can't be true because Hitler, being a surprisingly outstanding man despite being a German, doesn't drink unlike his Oktoberfest-celebrating peers. Indeed, if anything, his sudden remilitarization of Germany stalled the Soviet Union and thus kept Savieroski's own Italy a free country for a little while longer, despite rumors that Hitler's remilitarization is for another purpose as crazy as fighting fellow capitalists France and Great Britain.

Savieroski then decided that the Clark Flying Circus is better, doctrinally and technology, but nonetheless he will take down that base, capture its superior aircraft, and fly to Manila to force the Philippine Government to put him as leader of his own country. He then had production increased, including Bullfrogs and infantry, to take the base and then the rest of the country for himself. Who said that anyone is too old to rule his own country?


	10. New Unit: Martel Tank

In another part of the Philippines, the Philippine Constabulary was able to find the rumored 'third MCV' invasion force. Stripped of much of its leaders by Commander Ninja (not his real name) for the Day X invasion, this third base is run by a more normal, conventional, Japanese commanding officer. This commanding officer is, however, so normal and conventional that he remains unremarkable to this story at best, and thus will not be expounded upon. Since most of the Allied forces under direct Philippine control are committed to eliminating the Imperial presence under Admiral 898, the Philippine Constabulary had to eliminate this second base before the whole Philippines is overrun.

It was a gloomy, rainy day as usual, now that the monsoon season has come. The Imperial Warriors on guard were mesmerized by the monotonous pitter-patter of the rain on their helmets. It was such a boring, sleepy day that they could not hear Philippine tanks rumbling in the distance. By the time they noticed, they had just gripped their carbines when they were trampled by treads. A few kilometers down the mudpath, down the depression, lies the Imperial base barely off the sea, guarded by Defender VX's, Striker-VX's and Tankbusters bunched up together. The Philippine tanks could see the base, and the group commander decided to overwhelm the base. There was only one problem: they had a handful of tanks and a bunch of Engineeros against an enemy composed of anti-armor units. Nonetheless they had the advantage of surprise because they had just squished the advance guard. So they descended downhill in a classic, if Tankbuster-doomed, tank rush.

Except that strike team had more audacious ideas. They gunned their engines to full RPM and then powered down the muddy hill, sliding faster and faster down the path. Teasing up the controls of their tanks, the Philippine tank commanders were able to execute a "tactical drift" with devastating results: 38 Tankbusters were instantly killed by "squishing", or direct-impact concussions with a tank, when the Filipinos performed the first tactical tank drifting in actual combat conditions. The Engineeros, barely holding on to the handrails crudely welded to the tanks, then gunned down the rest of the spider-holed Tankbusters with the carbines they have just acquired from squished Imperial Warriors.

The weird tank desant force was just beginning to advance gloatingly when they spotted Chopper-VX's closing in. It was then that the tank crews understood why the default 85mm gun was replaced with 6 Javelin launchers,and popped those hostile airbornes in no time. They still could not understand though why their tanks are loaded with so many optical stuff until they encountered Defender VX's, which were quickly demolished when targeted them with the Spyglass Target Designator, and further locked-on by the Javelins' nasty tracer round painter (in lieu of the slower laser lock on normal Javelin launchers). When some of the damaged Philippine tanks saw the large group of Striker VX's just sitting there, they were Leech-Beamed to repair the tank, as well as to pick up those snazzy Rocket Pods. The unremarkable Imperial commander tried to escape with the rest of his staff in the Sudden Transport, but to their great horror the Filipino tanks deployed their pontoons and pursued them on water.

The rest of the Imperial base was then finally captured by Engineeros, the MCV taken back to Manila for further analysis of Imperial technology. The Imperial officers were then detained for questioning. This attack was a resounding success, and when word broke of the operation recruitment rates greatly improved. That, without relying on skimpily-dressed officers. The Philippine strike proved the worth of the pimped-out tanks, as well as the worth of the Philippine Constabulary as a whole.

**In-game Unit Profile:** Martel Tank

**Designation:** General-purpose Tank  
><strong>Manufacturer:<strong> Sarao Motors, Inc.  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Workshop  
><strong>Creed:<strong> Imba? Why not?

**Key Features:**  
>» Basic Soviet Hammer Tank<br>» Javelin missile launchers (X6), in lieu of 85mm autoloader*  
>» PKX 12.7mm heavy machine gun, with tracer rounds in lieu of Javelin laser lock-on*<br>» Spyglass target designator*  
>» Inflatable air cushion for littoral combat*<br>» Handrails with optional carabiner system*

*subject to change without prior notice

**History:**

One of perhaps the most flexible units in the war, the Martel tank is named after a corruption of the local word for "hammer", which in turn comes from the Spanish word for "hammer", which the Spaniards adopted from some other European nation. This mish-mashed etymology sums up the tank quite nicely, it being basically a Soviet Hammer tank (chosen because of its durability and Tsarsky Leech-Beam), with the 85 mm. tank gun replaced by the powerful and easy-to-make Javelin launcher fielded by the Allies. There are many merits to this change, since now designers can install a Spyglass target designator and leave it on always since they reasoned correctly that the Javelins' recoil is insignificant, thus the Spyglass's targeting would not be thrown away whenever the main armament is used. Also, since the bulky recoil compensator and the rest of the original gun is taken away, the designers were able to fit an inflatable cushion ripped from Allied Prospectors for crossing the seas as is necessary for inter-island combat common in the Philippines. The elegant Leech-Beam and secondary firing module, a fixture from its predecessor, is still there for an added punch, as well as in-combat repairs and upgrades.

The laser lock technology of the Allies for Javelins were incorporated into the Spyglasses, though the increase of firing rate is incremental rather than sudden-with-a-long-delay characteristic of man-portable version because the small window when the tank is not firing is the time when it is mostly useless, and Philippine top brass dislikes that. The targeting can also be accomplished manually by shooting the target with a tracer-laden heavy machine gun, such as the Soviet PKX. Upon hitting the target with the tracer rounds, it is understood that there is somewhat of a "lock" on the target, and so more missiles are jammed down the launchers for faster launching. This feature, while considered obsolete, is still a standard since it deals with pesky infantry as well.

Despite all of the abilities of the tank, it does have problems. Technically the machine is good and manages to be reliable while still high-tech and novel, but the production run of the vehicle is limited to only the Philippines for political reasons. It could not be sold to any other country, despite its obvious appeal at a reasonable price, since Allied and Soviet authorities forbid the Philippines from marketing their respective technologies. Furthermore, the development of the tanks is originally clandestine, and despite its obvious benefits in the battlefield employing even one of these leads to a convoluted minefield of patent infringement cases from Germany, Britain, the Soviet Union, and America, giving it the moniker of "Litigation Tank", or "Lawyer's Tank". In fact, had it not been for the law experts and law twisters of the Philippines this tank would not have been fielded in the first place, forcing the Philippines to use crummy normal MBTs alongside it despite their obvious defects.**  
><strong>

**Game unit:**

It is obviously an imbalanced unit, so don't expect it to come up in your nearest mod unless it is nerfed so badly to being unusable. It is a Soviet Hammer Tank, thus it is as tough as a Soviet Hammer Tank, as fast as one, and also shares the very useful Leech Beam and secondary firing port found in the conventional Hammer. However, replacing the single 85mm cannon with six Javelin launchers, while stupid-sounding in real life, makes the Martel hit six times as hard and at a greater range compared to its predecessor's conventional weapon layout. The tank also has a Spyglass always active at all times, which means that it supports other units by default by virtually cutting the target's armor. What makes this Javelin setup special though is that the laser lock-on is integrated to the (always-on) Spyglass, and the rate of fire is modified to increase over time instead of waiting for the missile to lock. This in effect makes the tank somewhat act like a stereotypical Gatling Tank...but with missiles.

All normal counters against MBTs are considered ineffective against this...thing because it can trample infantry or machine-gun them down, can shoot down aircraft with the six Javelin launchers, and attack ships because it can swim. Also, it has handrails and a carabiner system so that infantry can ride outside these tanks for a greater total punch as well as making it makeshift transport/dragoon, but they are more exposed to the hostilities. Finally, as the story continues upgunning the tank becomes more and more feasible, with one such proposal being to replace the Javelins with Japanese rocket pods. Another is to modify the excellent Spyglass target designator so as to blind the enemy.**  
><strong>

**Notes From the Field:**

_Laser-guided Gatling Missiles_ - The hexa-Javelin setup fires faster the longer it shoots, making it devastating against anything that cannot run away from its range, be it vehicles, buildings, aircraft, ship, or even infantry. Its Spyglass weakens the tank's targets further, making it somewhat of a support unit as well.

_Landing Craft, Tank_ - Foot soldiers are encouraged to hitch a free ride to the next island to save on transports, because fighting across 7,107 islands meant that amphibious abilities for the Philippine MBT is a must. This is achieved by crudely welded handrails from which infantry can clamp themselves to while firing, and a shameless rip-off (sometimes literally) of a Prospector's inflatable air cushion.

_Conventional in Another Universe_ - The machine gun, a holdover from the prototype which eschewed the advanced optical targeting system for good old tracer rounds, is still kept as a developmental relic. But still, being the only MBT to feature a decent anti-infantry weapon (that does not involve removing bones from the caterpillars for weeks) has to count for something.

_Hammer vs. Gavel_ - Despite all of its abilities, it still is just a heavily modified Hammer Tank. Though yes, it still keeps the very useful Leech Beam and secondary weapon pods for its alternative attack, it still is just a Hammer tank. As such, it could not be expected to fly (so far), or soak up damage like an Apocalypse Tank (yet), or bombard targets from extreme range (but we're working on it). Much as the design team would like to modify the tank further, they can not since so many cases were brought to court over the development and deployment of the tank that it is a miracle that the tank is fielded in the first place. Thus, whatever it does for now is all that it can _legally_ do for now until the mess with foreign governments and corporations are sorted out. Sorry for that.


	11. Attack Is Now On Air

Meanwhile, in General Bob's Clark Flying Circus base in Clark Pampanga:

"La di da di da America for the win!"  
>"Shut up Yank, we Brits are in this too. Stupid Americans can't defend their own territory like that surrender monkey over there..."<br>"Merde...cency please! (Sorry sir.)"  
>"Crikey mate, this war eating you?"<br>"You disturbing my siesta!"

Meanwhile, at a distance:

"Listen up Twinblade squad, our first objective is to follow these waypoints to the maggots' Power Plants. If you stray from this narrow corridor you get shot down by the Multigunner Turrets, so follow it. MiG squadron 45 will provide anti-air support in case, so don't worry about them Apollos."

After a few minutes:

"Hostile Twinblade squadron coming your way."  
>"What's that Frenchie...*ratatatboomboom* CHAPS, THEY GOT ME! WHERE's THAT AUSSIE?"<br>"In a jiffy...*ratatatatatatatatatatatat* I'M SWISS CHEESED OFF! Urk."  
>"It's so hard to aim this shoutgun upward with all this shoulder padding you know...*ratatat*..*smirk*Death, how peaceful."<br>"They don't mean no harm!...*ratatat*..Ow alright already they seem to."  
>"*ratatatatatat* I did not get two PhDs for this!"<br>"Sir I don't think the Satlink network could triangulate on airborne targets sir, but I'll try..*psheeeew*..oh it works...*ratatatatat*requesting permission to activate shield*ratatat*too late sir."

And then:

"Command, Twinblade squad 15 reporting. Element 4 Twinblade is downed by some lucky strike, but the Power Plants are destroyed. Proceeding to eliminate the rest of the base."  
>"Command, MiG squadron 45 here. We have downed all Apollos without loss. A few Vindicators tried to escape but are shot down as well. Thank you for the promotion sir."<p>

Later that night:

"Breaking news: The rogue Soviet commander Savieroski Galloski has 'disabled' General Bob's air base at Clark, Pampanga. There is yet no official figures as to the amount of damage done, but our gallant journalists have taken these (illegally-taken) photographs *flashes on screen* that seem to indicate total destruction of the base. The Philippine government refuses to comment, but we assure you that in service of the Filipino people (and not of viewership ratings) we will egg them until they speak up. This is Arianne Arraia, Alto Broadcasting Company News."


	12. The Battle of Manila

Admiral 898, of the Empire of the Rising Sun, goes online at sunrise. Its troops don't know why it is programmed to go to sleep mode at night; nor does its makers understand why their robot admiral would invent the concept of sleep since they did not put "SLEEP" in its flowchart nor does it seem to be the most logical step in the expansion of an empire. Both troops and techies just went along with the robot's quirks, since the troops are outranked by the robot while the techies would not dare admit a mistake for fear of angering the Imperial High Command.

The first discrepancy of this day that Admiral 898 notices is the lack of air disturbances of the frequency normally emitted by Allied Vindicator aircraft. In short, it can't hear Allied aircraft. After a quick check on the Burst Drones, it could not believe that somehow the Clark Air Base is annihilated. After confirming the data with never-before-seen footage (still illegal) from local news, it 'smiled'. There is no possible opposition that can stand against the Empire now that there are no more aircraft pounding its forces.

A few hours later the seaside capital city of Manila is being bombarded by Shogun Battleships. Its Naginata escorts have sunk the few Stingrays and Riptides the Philippine Constabulary had. Aircraft are of little use in the battle either because the Philippines were given basic technologies by the Allies and Soviets, none of which can attack ground forces; and besides there are a lot of Sea Wings likely in the area as leftovers from the Allied air assault. Martel tanks, while fine, are downright rude to use after the Soviet attack on the Allies; the repercussions on international relations would be worse. So what can be done?

Unlike most powers, critical battlefield creativity is not stifled in the Philippines. That means that things thought of as crazy, horrific, or downright sacrilegious by the Allies, or Soviets, or even the Empire, can be done. Besides, it's Manila, it's the capital itself of the Philippines, and it is suffering, so why not do everything to save it? Bullfrog transports are assembled, and stowed with stock torpedoes from leftover Riptides. The torpedoes are then launched via the Man-Cannon, and when that ran out, they flung tank shells, then Molotov Cocktails, then various armaments, then rocks and bricks and stones and sand and water and fireworks. The accuracy was pathetic though, and was greeted by a glance of superheated slugs that busted a tenth of the Bullfrog force. Constables bundled together stacks of Magnetic Mines and, unconvinced that the Bullfrogs can lob their packages far enough, rode the War Bears from the local Barracks into battle, creating the first organic naval cavalry. The Japanese simply had to laugh.

Then the IJN _Tomodashi_ began to list. The cruiser's starboard bulkheads were busted by the sheer number of mines that stuck to its hull and exploded. Other cruisers and the battleships began to fire at the bear cavalry, but they used the ship as cover, and surely enough the _Tomodashi_'s hull is littered with large, jagged holes from Empire munitions, and sank even faster. The Sea Wings then transformed to Sky Wings to combat this marine cavalry, and it's super effective.

To break the momentum, I just had to say that any anger the environmentalists had against the Philippine government for using War Bears was instantly diverted to Japan. Environmentalist hate against Japan, while already astronomical due to its whaling industry being condoned and even protected by the Imperial Government via the Shogun Battleship IJN _Sushi_ (which incidentally was capsized by the also-environmentally tragic La Union Super Reactor Incident back in Chapter 7), rose to even greater heights after this incident.

Back to the battle, the airborne Sky Wings were easy pickings for the Bullfrogs, which ripped all of them into shrapnel. This time a second bear cavalry "division", officially designated as the Second Bear Cavalry Division just two minutes ago, has joined the fray, wondering How to Save _their_ Lives. They planned a bit and then boarded the Bullfrog anti-air cars, and "shot Over My Head (in Cable's Car)" as one Bullfrog driver later recounted. Upon deploying the parachutes the Bear cavalry lobbed Magnetic Mines all over the ships which the Japanese are helpless against, because their supposed anti-aircraft support was ironically shot down by enemy anti-air.

While effective, there was a problem: the Second Bear Cavalry Division was going down. Literally. Most of the bear cavaliers were unlucky enough to land on the water, and were instantly torpedoed by Naginatas. Some fared worse, getting impaled on the antennae of the enemy ships. A pair of them landed in the path of a Shogun Battleship at flank (read: Ramming) speed and were washed aside by the wake, only to slam to the sides of the catamaran hull of the battleship, and were then torpedoed by Naginatas. If there was any comfort in the pair's death, it is knowing that the Naginatas' torpedoes had also sunk the battleship as well. However a significant number of the Bear Cavalry landed on the decks of the ships, where the cavaliers whipped out their _dual_ Grummonds and proceeded to kill the defenseless crews of the ships.

The battle of Manila seemed to be finally over, when a _larger_ Imperial Surface Action Group (SAG) emerged, complete with Tsunami Tanks, Yari minisubs, and the Robot Admiral itself. At this point the battle is lost, surely.

Nah. A Bullfrog shot Turiano Carpio into the path of the SAG, and eschewing parachutes because it will only make him vulnerable to Sea Wing missiles, vectored straight into the center of the SAG with SuperUltraMegaphone blaring, stunning the whole SAG with mind-bending philosophies. Admiral 898's comparatively pathetic computer brain simply crashed, which sent his command Yari on an automatic Return to Base at collision speed. The rest of the robot admiral's ships were stunned by Turiano Carpio, personal regulation uniform still pristine, posture still ramrod straight (while somehow standing somewhere _at_ water), eyes still commanding yet deep; despite having just been launched, crudely from a cannon, into choppy seas. That is what transcendence can do.

"...so in conclusion..."


	13. The Unlucky One

The Battle of Manila ended in a Philippine victory, with the Empire of the Rising Sun losing two surface action groups and the Philippine Republic gaining one, complete with crew. But it was only a Philippine _tactical_ victory, not a strategic victory, since the Imperial strike force was repulsed too late that most of the industrial capacity of the Philippines was lost. In short, it was a crippling blow to the Philippines. The bombardment shattered workshops and aerodromes, academies and refineries, and caused so much chaos that military production in the city was slowed to a crawl. This made glaringly obvious the vulnerability of the coastline bases to Imperial attack, and so all forces were pulled inland except for Manila itself, it being defended by an Imperial fleet convinced by the philosopher commando to fight for the Philippines. As for the philosopher commando, he had to be pulled out from the field to train soldiers and officers double time before the situation goes out of hand, and is thus very busy.

However, the retreat was complicated by several simultaneous attacks and landings by a still-buggy Admiral 898 in conjunction with strikes from the Ninja (not his real name) Commander via remote link from his DevilCoat, and a very vengeful if still normal and conventional unnamed Imperial commander last seen retreating from a Martel Tank-based surgical strike (i.e. Chapter 10). Due to the confusion, all Philippine forces were forced to withdraw to the nearest inland base, which were then turned to full redoubts. This static defense posture adopted by the Philippines marked the beginning of a long war of attrition, with Philippine bases becoming self-sufficient by continually raiding Imperial forces and supplies with guerrilla tactics, to the extreme annoyance of the Empire.

So the Philippines goes turtle. Nice. But there is a problem. The technological gap is apparent, and despite the best efforts of Engineeros in salvaging the ruins of General Bob's base for useful Allied advanced technology there is little that the local defense forces can do against the various technologies the Empire can bring upon them. Complicating the salvage is Commander Galloski's forces still marauding the surrounding area. A surgical strike, thus, at his base could give the Philippines the much-needed technological boost from the advanced Soviet technology he had, and from the Allied ruins he wrought.

A small team of Constables was assembled, with instructions to clear the base for the Engineeros to capture the Soviet structures. An additional bonus for the capture of Galloski is provided. As support, various prototypes from analyzed Imperial technology are going to be tested in actual conditions there for the first time.

Constable Rodriguez had her sights on the Twinblade making rounds around the base. The Twinblade pilot doesn't notice it yet, but there is a red dot each on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, every tooth of his mouth, and his temples. Rodriguez in unison with other Constables then fired their guns, which being simply Kinetic Carbines with a prototype Red Dot Sight, just splattered superheated slugs all over the chopper. Somehow the chopper crashes, but that was likely due to the sheer weight of slugs lodged into the fuselage. But hey, it worked, and now on with the strike. Burning Molotov Cocktails on a stick are then fired from Grummonds at range to deal with Sentry Guns, and all was going good until one of them Constables was zapped like a bug. Constable Rodriguez, lucky enough to survive albeit in critical condition with massive burns, was pulled back with the rest of the horrified Constables as a Tesla Coil, and a supercharged one at that, began to charge up. The Constables pulled back sufficiently before another one gets electrocuted and waited for the promised air support to come.

The air support glistened in the sky. Moving slowly, majestically, towards the battlefield, the Constables wondered why did the air support hold back up to now. Then they saw that the air support was a _swarm_, a swarm of shiny, majestic aircraft ready to give the Soviets a pounding. Then it flew in. It was just a bunch of Filipino-made Burst Drones with mirrors, and the Burst Drones did not even dare come close to the base. The Constables groaned.

Then they saw Martel tanks rumbling towards them. With glee, they watched these new Martel tanks move very quietly through the plains towards their direction; they must be retrofitted the new silent Japanese-designed engines. Then the Martel tanks transformed into Sudden Transports, but with Filipino markings. At this point the Constables were ready to shoot the Transports whether they were Empire or Philippine, because to hell with that armor support, but the commander of this odd group of transports told them to just "enjoy the show", and then some transports opened their sunroofs to reveal what great weapon the Department of Science and Technology whipped up. The rest of the transports were then hooked up to these harbingers of doomsy-doomly new scientific marvels.

It just an array of Spyglasses.

"You're going to just tag them?"

"Just wait and see."

With a sneer, the Sudden Transport group commander supercharged the array of Spyglasses with the generators stored on the connected Sudden Transport, then discharged massive energies spectacularly towards the mirrors on the Burst Drones, to reflect upon the hapless Soviets in their base and thus ensuring their complete and total annihilation. Except the discharges were more of in the form of a bright flash of light and a loud BANG that was directed in all directions instead, and then everyone realized that the Spyglasses were not made to accept that much energy. So much for technology then, so the generators and busted Spyglasses were thrown out and then Constables were moved in the Sudden Transports.

Scanning the first enemy thing they could see, they disguised their Sudden Transports as Kirov Airships on the ground, and then drove-flew-floated into the base. The Conscripts then had a brain-bending day of somehow being passed through by Kirovs flying through them and the ground, and getting into these airships while still standing on the ground, but because 2 + 2 = 5, anything is possible if Comrade Premier says so.

"Comrade, did I just somehow stand through the innards of a Kirov?"

"Me too. Local vodka gone bad"

"This must be illusion."

"Impossible comrade, this airship is real. Totally Room 101 percent real. See, I'm hit by metal skeleton of airship. Look at these bits of metal."

"I never knew that big gas bags filled with bullets too. Soviet technology is amazing."

"Is the Tesla Coil a mooring tower for Kirovs now?"

"Hey Surkov, I don't know how I managed to get into this airship, or why I am sunk into its floor; but you still owe me..OW you shooting me!"

The job was a cakewalk. Constables cramped up on the sunroof and made a painfully slow drive-by on unsuspecting Conscripts and Tesla Coils, and cleaned the air of annoying aircraft. Enemy Bullfrogs just blew up when they entered the alleged Kirovs ("Comrade Dravida did not avoid Kirov going to him at full speed that's why his Bullfrog blew up. You don't bump into bullet-filled airship"), leaving hole-ridden wrecks ridiculously difficult mission became a ridiculously easy mission, and in a matter of minutes another Philippine-owned Sudden Transport disguised as a MiG fighter went into the base, dropped of Engineeros, disguised itself again, then watched as the Engineeros captured the base. Alas, Savieroski Galloski was not there, but what the Filipinos gained was worth it. They had recaptured their base, and with it the blueprints for everything the Soviet Union's bases could produce, from ADK-45s to M-harpoons to Kirov Airships to Dreadnoughts. As a bonus, they got the intelligence officer, who was then sent for interrogation and possible conversion by the Turiano Carpio.

The designer of the Spyglass array got a deduction in her paycheck.


	14. Trying to Be Romantic Fanfic

The recapture of the Philippine Constabulary's base in Pangasinan from the hands of the rogue Soviet commander Galloski was a very successful mission, capturing a treasure trove of Soviet technology and greatly boosting the assimilation of Allied technology from General Bob's base, since there are no more rogue Soviet forces gunning down Filipino salvageers.

Which was just in time, since the three Imperial commanders decided to gang up against the Albay redoubt south of Manila with a plan to march up north to the capital, which is Manila. Just remember that, those who have problems with alternate-reality Philippine geography. Admiral 898 is in charge, ironically, of the 'heavy' armour divisions which mostly are Tsunami tanks. King Onis and Wave-Force units are simply lumped into its command. Commander Ninja (not his real name) is in command of the infantry, with specialization in Shinobi deployment. The vengeful-if-unremarkable unnamed commander is then in command of the rest of the units in this ground battle.

On the other side of the battle is General Ayara [sic], who prefers to keep her life private and would prefer the narrator to not divulge anything about her; she is thus skilled, beautiful, and studied biology, history and law. Since not much else is allowed to be revealed about her, the narrator would have to reconfigure her into the alternate history.

-000-

Pvt. Ichiro is marching under the hot tropical sun. The sky is clear, which is good for the airborne VX, but merciless on foot soldiers like him. But nonetheless, he still is young, and cynicism has not yet sapped away his youthful optimism and faith in the Emperor, especially with the Tsunami tanks and King Onis painted in the beautiful, majestic Imperial livery. Life has never been better for a Japanese like him, except maybe for the sun and for a girl's love. He is eyeing one of the most beautiful Rocket Angels hovering above him, who seemed to not care for the bashful boy since why would she care for a simple Imperial Warrior; she would rather stay with her fellow Rocket Angels instead. The way her hair waves, the way her face almost shines in the Philippine sun...why must she remove her helmet? It only makes her more desirable, and knowing you can never have her, more painful! Young love in times of war indeed...then SPROING! the ground beneath a King Oni nearby pops up suddenly, breaking the giant mecha's right knee and ankle. The giant fumbles, then stumbles to the ground before blowing up into bits.

Nearby, a group of Tsunami Tanks were flipped by another one of these "pop-up grounds", again with the same explosive results. Thinking it must be some sort of a drilling shell, a group of Tankbusters dug in to the ground, only to discover what seemed to be Allied SPAM modules. They somehow were able to relay this to the commanders before being flung into the air into the intakes of Jet Tengus flying above, leading to the shredding of the Tankbusters and the engines of the Tengus to the destruction of both. The chaos would normally lead to a bunch of Soviet Conscripts running away successfully or being gunned down by commissars in Twinblades, but they are of the Empire of the Rising Sun! Nothing can shake their morale!

Then a platoon of Imperial Warriors were squished when the King Oni walking in front of them fell on them. All VX suddenly went airborne before they get flipped or flung skyward, but the infantry are obviously not lucky, with a bunch of Shinobis being shredded by the blades of a Chopper VX. If the extreme g-forces do not kill, meeting the ground again would.

Pvt. Ichiro then found himself airborne, somehow managing to not black out. Looking up, he saw the girl of his dreams in his path, looking directly at him. Even with the face of horror plastered on her face she still looks lovely; fear only made her paler, and more beautiful. With a few moments that seemed like forever to him, he held her form-fitting flight suit, first gently, then tightly, as he hugged her and managed to kiss her pale pretty unhelmeted face. He did not mean to kiss her, but somehow the momentum, the momentum of destiny and love itself made him do it; it is the right thing to do. The very sweet kiss...ah, young love indeed. Even when various troops and ground VX units are being thrown around them, he does not mind. Even if the surrounding Rocket Angels are suffering sever head concussions from bumping with VX units, he does not mind. Even if the aforementioned units are swatting the surrounding rocket Angels, he does not mind. Even if the flung infantry are toasted by the Rocket Angels' boosters, he does not mind. And even if blood is streaking from the wounds of his allies splashing on them profusely, it did not disturb his kiss, her kiss; the surroundings looked even more surreal with all the blood and death around them, in contrast with the comparatively...peaceful kiss only greater magnified the effect on young Ichiro's mind.

The unexpected hug-and-kiss was a lifesaver, preventing the Rocket Angel from being swat down by other units, and preventing Pvt. Ichiro from falling to his death. The gyroscopic stabilizer balanced their flight, and the mid-air kiss was cheered at by fellow flung Imperial Warriors from Ichiro's company until the rest of the company plummeted to the ground to certain death, with a smile of happiness knowing that their companymate has finally dropped his inhibitions and is finally with his true love.

-000-

Notes on the SPAM Pop-up Defense Module (**Pop-up SPAM**):

**Affiliation:** Republic of the Philippines  
><strong>Role:<strong> Special anti-surface base defense, single use  
><strong>Armament:<strong> Boosted SPAM Module  
><strong>Armor type:<strong> Low  
><strong>Ground attack:<strong> Massive  
><strong>Power:<strong> 0  
><strong>Cost:<strong> 100  
><strong>Build time:<strong> 0:00  
><strong>Deployment time:<strong> 0:00

**Evaluation:**

Gen. Ayara [sic] concluded that the pop-up structures are indeed very effective despite being single-use defensive buildings. Originally conceived from Allied SPAM modules modified to have build rates increased so fast that they simply...spring out of the ground, their potential was discovered when one was used to fling a hated sergeant's jeep. Sure, the Pop-up SPAM was destroyed because it was forced to build so quickly, but given its comedy and destructive potential, as well as the cheapness and spamminess of SPAMs, these structures are sure to have a place in the Philippine arsenal.

Cheap structures with instant built times and instant field deployment times, yet able to break the legs of a King Oni and flip tanks and fling troops to air units above, they are, as the Winner General (a title General Ayara [sic] made up for herself) admits, a whole lotta fun to use while being practical just the same, despite being single-use. They can also be built ahead of time, which then becomes stealthed simply because these structures are underground, but scout units can smell delicious, yummy SPAM which blows the camouflage of these structures. Predeployed Pop-up SPAMs can be rigged such as that the pop-up trigger can be toggled between manual and automatic trigger as well, further adding to the tactical options of a Filipino commander.

-000-

"I...I'm sorry for that. I did not mean to..."  
>"What are you talking about? You saved my life! *blush* Er, what is your name?"<br>"I...Ichiro."  
>"Hi, I'm Maki. Er, thanks."<br>"Err, yeah, you're welcome. Thanks too.."

Apparently, after living in a war monastery for 8 years romance only becomes sweeter, no?


	15. New Unit: Bear Cavalier

Ichiro and Maki has just managed to escape the Filipino deathtrap, when a Bear Cavalier scouting for useful stuff chanced upon them. Seeing them in love, and too infatuated with each other to even notice him, he classified them as harmless airborne. "Love is in the air, and I'd rather not disturb them." So he and his fellow Cavaliers charged the Wave-Force Artillery units that just destroyed the underground Pop-up SPAMs, also destroying a lot of the artillery in the process. The Cavaliers then captured the rest of the flipped Imperial soldiers as POWs and salvaged whatever neat, cool guns they had that worked, then went back to the Albay Redoubt. They are so flexible a unit that I have been using them since Chaper 12; surely, they could use a unit profile as well, right? So let's make them one.

**In-game Unit Profile:** Bear Cavalry

**Designation:** Amphibious Cavalry  
><strong>Training Headquarters:<strong> Sta. Ana Racetrack-to-Base Conversion Base  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Philippine Academy

**Accessories:**  
>» War Bear, Racing breed<br>» Constable, Bearquestrian training required  
>» Danao 45 kinetic carbine with Grummond underbarrel and Javelin non-locking laser lock (as a Red Dot Sight)<br>» Applique mounts for various "confiscated" guns  
>» Fish on a long stick<p>

**History:**

A note about the Filipinos: we _never_ turn our swords into ploughshares. We prefer instead to simply dig deep furrows with our swords. A real-world example would be the jeepney, which are buses made from U. S. Army Jeeps. A Red Alert 3-world example would be the Sta. Ana Bear Races, which replaced horse racing with War Bear racing.

Whoever in the Philippine Constabulary first tried riding the then-imported War Bears are risking life, limb, and career by mishandling these then-expensive units. However, such actions of unprofessionalism may have actually helped the Philippines, because when War Bear riding was first unveiled in a televised military parade, the Bear Cavalry proved so much fun to watch that the people approved a bill _increasing_ defense budget even if war seemed too far away from Philippine shores. This increase in defense spending allowed the Philippine Constabulary to maintain quality training and armaments, and with a partnership with the moguls of horseracing the Philippine Constabulary enjoyed its highest budget since its existence. As a deal, horseracing moguls then developed their own bear pens, which now provide the Philippines with all the bears it needs to enjoy a betting game while fighting a war at the same time.

When war came, the troops that are first seen in the Bear Cavalry (who by the way are the only ones that bothered to learn how to ride War Bears) are tapped to train new cavaliers. The original 'unprofessionalism' displayed by these original Bear Cavaliers have rubbed off their students, whose initiative and battlefield creativity is highly valued by Filipino commanders. At first armed only with whatever gun they can find from the armory, usually an illegal locally-made Kinetic Carbine variant with a Red Dot Sight and a Grummond underbarrel called a Danao 45, Bear Cavaliers have learned to do raids to replenish armament and ammunition stock, and are willing to wield newly-commandeered infantry weapons for more firepower.

The general public may have not known of them until the Battle of Manila, where they were able to sink and capture a whole Imperial Fleet, but the higher-ups of the military looked upon them the way other countries view their special forces or commandos: leniently disciplined, but resourceful and very, _very_ useful.

**Game unit:**

Simply a foot soldier on a bear, the odd duo may seem unassuming but don't underestimate them. It's an imbalanced unit in the form of a squishy organic that can move quickly, with the bear able to maul enemy infantry whenever it wants to, and the soldier able to shoot infantry whenever he must; one of these pairs can clean up a hostile platoon with a well-timed roar and a bloody show of paws and guns. Tanks should also be wary of them as well, since the bundled Magnetic Mines throw well and explode hard. They also swim, where they would employ stacks of Magnetic Mines from Flak Troopers as anti-ship and anti-sub weapons. Not even aircraft are spared, with the Constable willing to aim his Danao 45 to riddle airborne foes with caseless slugs likely taken from the bandolier of a dead Imperial Warrior.

However, what makes them even more feared is that Bear Cavaliers scavenge his slayed enemy's guns, having their arms and ammunition incorporated to the usable arsenal of a Bear Cavalier, allowing him to engage foes with their deceased comrades' arms. However, only one 'off-hand weapon', on a special mount on the War Bear's armor plate, can be carried by a Bear Cavalry unit since no one wants to carry an exhausted bear back to base.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Part Bear_ - Strong, well-trained creatures, these Cavalry Bears are as good as War Bears, if a tad bit slower with all the extra load on its back. They also have amplified roars which can stun infantry, but restraining bears from roaring proved too much of a hassle during bear training that the bears can roar whenever they want instead, and they roar quite often indeed.

_Part Man_ - Constables trained in the unique art of bearquestrianism, they seem to be less restrained than ordinary Constables to the point of scavenging an enemy weapon to mount on his bear; such lack of discipline comes from their bearquestrian instructors who first thought of riding the bears themselves. Fortunately their students are still disciplined enough to drop the secondary weapon on command (just in case the international community sees them), only to scavenge the gun of the guy he kills next.

_Part horse_ - Just like the old times, where cavalry would normally flank pesky infantry and rush to the enemy's rear to destroy their mechanical elements (which were cannons back then mostly), Bear Cavaliers of this day can still engage cannon-toting units, called tanks, with precision and efficiency. Using Flak Troopers' Magnetic Mines, then bundled for use in the Battle of Manila to destroy ships, the effectiveness of these packets against mechanized ground units are surprisingly high.

_Part SEAL_ - Bears swim. Bears can thus be used to carry Constables to sea to drop bundled Magnetic Mines on ship hulls, and even submarine hulls if the bear smells one. Furthermore, Constables have no qualms against trying to shoot down aircraft with their Danao 45's and thus can be used as anti-aircraft, even if moving aircraft are a tad bit difficult to hit.


	16. Sound Like War Like Sound

On another part of the Albay Redoubt, a bunch of technicians are a bit miffed that their dog-manned Multigunner Turrets only just stun infantry. So while the Japanese are busy fending themselves against flippy ground, Black Hole shells, and angry bear cavalry, the technicians sneaked into the Multigunner Turret Control Station to somehow tweak the Multigunner sound systems to do something else.

At first they observed as an Imperial infantry platoon marched in, the only units not pulled in by Philippine Black Hole shells. One of the conventional dog-manned turrets let out an amplified WOOF!, which appealed to man's basic instinct to pat a dog. Since there are no visible dogs around to pat, the Imperial infantry platoon then experienced a BSOD moment, only to recover and be woofed at again. Recover, Woof, Stun, in loop. Until Bear Cavaliers pounced on them, dual kinetic carbine-type weapons blazing, jaws chomping.

"That was lame. Dog turret needs fire support. I bet I can do more damage with this The Annoying Noisy Band cassette."  
>"Bet? How much? Right, the guy that can do the most awesome thing with these Woofer turrets gets free beer later at happy hour!"<br>*_cheers abound_*

The first technician pops his cassette of _The Annoying Noisy Band - The Greatest Compliation Hits To Die For_ into the Woofer interface. A bunch of brave, determined Imperial infantry march in with their guns at the Multigunner Turret. They were greeted by a bizarre, disorienting, loud, pandemonium of avante-garde music typical of the band. Quickly covering their ears to try to save themselves from extreme sensory assault, the more music-oriented of the foot soldiers shot himself quickly, and he was the lucky one. The rest first ruptured their eardrums, then stumbled in confusion vomiting while bleeding profusely to their death. Some of them went blind when a particularly loud beat ruptured their optical membranes and thus cried blood until they ran out of it, others had their hearts so badly pounded by the beats that they suffered palpitations before the organ ruptured inside them, while others still had their breathing so totally disturbed by sound waves that the air inside their lungs were forcefully sucked out then crammed back in to choke and drown them on air. The technicians watching are awe-struck by the effects, then felt a tinge of pity and remorse, before going back to their normal curious selves.

"Hey look, another platoon. Let me try."

The second technician gets a single note of 17400 Hz, then plays it full blast on the incoming Imperial platoon. The noise also led to bleeding ears, nausea, stumbling on their own weapons, arrhythmia, major breathing disruptions, rupture of intestinal lining and retinal membranes, deformation of veins, death, and general discomfort.

"Look, another platoon, but with armor support. May I try?"

The third technician sets an ultrasonic frequency, directs it on the ground force, then plays his 'song'. Infantry simply popped their ears as well, then stumbled without even hearing what was assaulting their subconscious. In addition, their blood began to form gas bubbles, which lead to stroke and other ischemia in general. Eventually they died of a combination of asphyxiation, blood deprivation further magnified by blood loss, and external explosions. The armored units on the other hand began to shake when resonance hit; their crews were badly shaken inside their vehicles and their brains were badly jiggled inside their skulls. Moving parts fell off, literally disarming King Onis and removing the legs off a bunch of Striker VX's. The live ammunition also shook, until the friction between them was enough to ignite their explosives inside their holds, causing most of the damage on the Tsunami Tanks which were loaded to the brim with such shells; all had a jack-in-the-box Catastrophic Kill effect despite having blown off their burst diaphragms. Fuel also spontaneously combusted due to the waves heating them to that point; this then destroyed any Sudden Transports in the vicinity as evidenced by their burnt hulks displaying a constant large, gaping hole that had a blast hole always directed at the cabin. The technicians cheered.

"Crud, yet _another_ battalion. Let me try this one."

The fourth technician then requests for a Pop-up SPAM, then readies a subsonic Brown Note disc to play. He then SPROING!s a Woofer in the general direction of Rocket Angels and other airborne VX, plays the Brown Note, then they technicians had a jolly good time laughing as Rocket Angels had their 'emergency excretion evacuation' activated, dropping crap on a bunch of Imperial infantry not expecting that from their Muses of War. However, the Scat Storm proved lethal to Japanese ground mechanized elements; when some dropped on the sensors of a King Oni, its pilot instinctively tried to wipe the 'face' of the humongous mecha and inadvertently beheaded itself. Another King Oni tried to blast the poop off its eye sensors with its Radiant Eyeblasters, and managed to behead another King Oni. Some of the scat also entered Mecha Tengu air intakes, jamming their engines up and turning them into Mobility Kills. Wave-Force Artilleries were considered Mission Kills as well, since they are already badly contaminated by excrement. Even a Yuriko Omega clone was not spared from the scat storm, and now thoroughly pissed off left the force very angsty-destructive. Various patriotic symbols were despoiled, tainted, and defiled, which led the particularly badly demoralized Imperial elements to simply commit honorable suicide with whatever they can get their hands on, including laser katanas, Tankbuster cannons, and tanks.

While still trying to move forward under such chaotic conditions, the rest of the Imperial forces then experienced the full force of the feared Brown Note, then soiled all their pants. The shame caused even more honorable suicides, while the more combat-pragmatic are themselves forcibly seppuku-ed by the Brown Note itself, disemboweled by their own bowels, excreting their own endodermal derivatives through their gastrointestinal tract; in short they died a crappy death.

The technicians then cheered for their comrade wildly for the creative, offensive use of their Acoustic Systems course for developing the Brown Note.  
>"Look, I have this cassette which may interest you. It is an audiobook of the teacher's copy of Military Philosophy 55 I bootlegged just in case...let's try it on them!"<br>"Wait, is that the one by T. Carpio? Wow, I never even made past his Military Philosophy 10! No one else could possibly have passed the prerequisites for _that_!"

The bunch of technicians then found another Imperial battalion going to another Woofer Multigunner, since the Woofer Multigunner turret is already overflowing with Japanese innards and busted technology that no battalion surely would dare pass through that again. They then happily put the cassette, rewinded it so that the the Japanese could have a foreword from their hated-feared-respected ex-professor.

The Japanese were well within range of the Woofer Multigunner. They played the bootlegged cassette. The effects were...er...The technicians who were cheering on the effectiveness of their other sonic armaments are sincerely silenced awe-struck in the manner by which it disposed of the whole Imperial battalion by sheer power of philosophy, that describing it in words would not give the philosophy due respect. And even I myself would not wish to get on the bad side of Turiano Carpio's philosophy, so I would not describe it out of respect and fear for my own sanity, life and very existence.

In all, General Ayara's Albay Redoubt withstood the assault to fight another day against its foes. The technicians agreed that that bootleg is too powerful, dangerous, and maddening to have, own, or even use; the Japanese involved in the siege could not agree more, or less, because they are either too dead or too disproven by the philosophy to exist in the first place.


	17. New Unit: The Emperor's Blessing

The Emperor is annoyed. Whole divisions were lost trying to subdue a minor barbarian puppet race a mere few hundred kilometres south of his throne; whole divisions that could have been used to defend the North Sea Floating Fortress, whole divisions that could have hastened the collapse of the Soviet Union, whole divisions that could be used to cripple the Allied forces just on the other side of the Pacific. Of course, it was his fault to wage a war against two world powers simultaneously; perhaps he should have conquered the then-Soviet-controlled mainland Europe as an ally of the Allies first then take over the rest of the Union and then backstab the Allied forces who would be then too busy with the occupation.

Now because critically-needed forces have been diverted to the invasion of the Philippines, the Allies have broken free of the Imperial oceanic blockade, and are now teamed up with the Soviets to delay his plans for divine destiny. Oh well, a few years of setback then, but worth the infinity of Japanese rule over the whole planet. So he contacts the three commanders in charge of the invasion of the Philippines over for a nice chitchat and a cup of tea.

He then smashes his teacup on Admiral 898's head in violent rage, punches Commander Ninja (not his real name) straight at the mask, leers the vengeful-but-still-unremarkable commander, then sends the three commanders back to the islands to continue the push, with his 'blessing'.

The shamed commanders were then sent with their forces and the Emperor's 'blessing' to Guimaras Island in the Visayan group of islands in the Philippines. The island has been recently captured with minimal resistance, consisting of a small attachment of troops with their fire support being single Martel tank under repair. In there, a specially designed Imperial Docks complex was immediately built to try to put together this odd weapon, with "Shirada Shipworks" emblazoned on all 76,023 cargo containers that contained the parts for the thing. Under great secrecy, all parts were shipped into the Guimaras base, with blueprints flown in at the last minute on a sealed magnetic memory device in a corrosive-acid glass container to prevent capture in case of the Filipinos striking lucky again. The preparations for the creation of the Emperor's 'blessing' was done in utmost haste and secrecy, wary of any Filipino spy which may be feeding sensitive information that could lead to their string of stunning victories despite being mere barbarians. Such is the dedication to secrecy that the pesky Filipino journalists did not even know of the project, though that may be because none of them journalists wanted to cover a possibly-lethal rumor in some desolate island.

However, the Japanese seems to have forgotten that the Philippines is a typhoon-prone country, and while the blueprints are being flown in the pilot somehow got into some rough skies, but landed without incident. Or as he thought, because when the engineers have recieved the memory device containing the blueprints, they had the look of horror plastered in their faces. The blueprints are corrupted when the turbulence created cracks in the corrosive-acid glass container, dripping highly reactive liquids on the memory device. The blueprints was not a total loss however because the airborne platform is workable, but the enigmatic God's Breath device, as well as the flotation and VX systems are beyond restoration. When the commanders learned of it, they never dared call Imperial High Command either, and for the first time are forced to improvise like those Filipino barbarians have been doing all the time.

In the end, the engineers was able to make the Emperor's 'blessing', but with as much head-scratching as deviations from what they can gather from the original design. And when it was unveiled, it was..._ugly_. So what really did they engineers cobble up?

Why not unveil its unit profile then?

**In-game Unit Profile:** Emperor's 'Blessing'

**Designation:** Airborne Anti-Air / Heavy Bombardment  
><strong>Manufacturer:<strong> Guimaras Island Imperial Docks Complex  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Japan / Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at: <strong>Unique Unit

**Accessories:**  
>» Wave-Force Particle Beams (x10)<br>» Air Thrusters  
>» Kagami Nano-Deflective Armor, with post-production repair-defense modifcation<br>» modified Giga-Fortress, Sky-Fortress mode platform  
>» Maneki Neko, a lot of it<p>

**History:**

The best that the Imperial invasion force could put together using whatever materials they had, the Emperor's 'Blessing', as Commander Ninja (not his real name) mockingly named it, is a twisted maniacal-looking mockery of the prototype Giga Fortress the conglomerate Ten-Shi Zaibatsu has developed. Hoping to test their creation's capabilities in the Philippines, the zaibatsu had no idea that the performance data they are expecting from the unit would be null and void because somehow, somebody had the bright idea of storing the blueprints in a Da Vinci Code-style cryptex to be flown through a thunderstorm.

Now unveiled, the local Imperial engineers showed their understanding of whatever data they could salvage from the corrupted memory device, with possible replacements to use. The whole Sea-Fortress mode was removed because that part was corrupted beyond restoration, the God's Breath device was too advanced for the engineers to build from scratch, and the supposedly scary severed head that would be the Sky-Fortress is so badly mangled that when the officers saw it, they knew they had a problem with the Emperor wishing it to be a symbolic face of death and surety of Imperial dominance; now turned into a manic twisted grin of a face that elicited laughter, disgust, and befuddlement to any unprepared enemy that would dare face it. That is how ugly the thing is.

Its engines were not that well-made either, so the massive blocks of armor was deleted from the design, exposing the vulnerable double-redundant systems of the machine. To counteract the removal of the massive armor pieces, Imperial engineers instead mounted Kagami nanomachine energy web armor as found in Tsunami Tanks, but boosted to cover the whole severed head as well as stay there permanently except if turned off. So why did the engineers put an on-off switch on the Kagami defensive energy web? It's because the energy web is maintained by energy which is supposed to power the self-repair mechanisms (because of the sheer number of design defects in their improvised machine), so auto-repairing the 'blessing' in mid-air would make it more vulnerable to hits, while switching off the auto-repair makes it significantly tougher. But it's still ugly.

Finally, in exchange of what is supposed to be an immensely powerful God's Breath device, the engineers removed various still-working parts of Wave-Force Particle Beams salvaged from badly damaged Wave-Force Artillery units, put them together to make functional Wave-Force Particle Beam armaments and mounted them twinned on turrets supposedly for the Shirada 350 mm cannons. These Wave-Force Bi-gun turrets are then shoved into whatever orifice the severed head of a Giga-Fortress had that can contain the weapons, resulting in a twin-cannon turret mounted on each of the "ears", "mouth", and "medulla oblongata" of the thing, with an extra Wave-Force cannon turret per "nostril". Which makes it even uglier.

And the reason why the head is always spinning when stationary? The machine is, strangely, very unstable when hovering, so the engineers had to make it spin when stationary to prevent it ironically from tail-spinning to a fiery contact with the Earth. All these quirks made it look stupid, and ugly as hell.

The stupefied commanders looked at it, with equal amounts of pity and "oh crap", and then decided to use it still just because it might be useful. Also, everyone agreed that their heads look better compared to the deranged flying head, and made the engineers the butt of all jokes.

**Game unit:**

It is, like most Imperial units, as tough as cardboard but as powerful as ten Wave-Force cannons. It is thus very powerful against ground units and structures, and is potentially able to target aircraft as well with its turrets had the machine been equipped with better targeting systems. (So why not? Oh yes we will, but that would be for the next chapter.) As being able to target air and ground units, it is obviously powerful, and with ten such cannons, it is obviously a game breaker as well. However it is also incapable of withstanding much damage, so the nanomachines are getting a lot of use, then auto-repair when out of combat. Its slow spin is surprisingly a boon to the machine, allowing the Wave-Force cannons bristling around the machine to be brought to bear against a target, fire, then recharge while spinning around in time to fire again at full power when it is in the direction of the target. It is also painfully slow, but if properly managed, can destroy a whole base single-handedly.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Flying (Spinning) Beam Show_ - Ten Wave-Force Cannons is nothing to sneeze at, nor unheard of, nor to be thought about, nor to be talked down. This thing has them all up its nose, at its ears, at its brain's base, and at its mouth. Word of mouth is that of powerfully destructive resonating beams, nostrils angrily blaring powerfully destructive resonating beams, those within earshot being borne down by powerfully destructive resonating beams, and anything at the back of its mind is to have a brainstorm of (you guessed it) powerfully destructive resonating beams. Crud, man, this is a very punny head to describe that I can do this all day. And did I mention that this thing spins too?

_Tough Repairs_ - When the engineers evaluated their design, they thought that it critically lacks survivability. Two schools of thought emerged: the in-combat repairs theory, or the too-tough-to-kill theory. Since the machine is too hastily designed to have both safely activated, they instead put both systems of repair and toughen in one mutually-exclusive package and let the commanders choose which of the two survivability theories are more suited for the situation.

_Anti-air support_ - Mounting Wave-Force cannons on turrets up in the sky meant that these cannons are finally able to have aircraft within their line of fire. All these cannons need to actually target these aircraft is just a nice 512 MHz processor.

_Unique_ - Despite all of its pros, this machine is likely to be unique, seeing that this...thing is too far below Imperial military aesthetic standards that High Command fears that it would demoralize troops instead. Since the Emperor considers morale from material sources to be such an important part of combat, tactically and strategically, this could be considered an affront against Mr. Yoshiro himself, and would never be replicated by any proper Japanese.


	18. Pilot, Captain, Admiral

The Emperor's Blessing. The Empire's first airborne epic unit. The Empire's first epic unit deployed in the Philippines. And quite possibly the Empire's ugliest epic unit, or indeed ugliest unit ever. None of those Japanese involved in the project expected it to work, but now it does. It works, and has not yet blown them up thankfully; must've been the sheer amount of maneki nekoes in the ship.

Now, the engineers needed a crew for the machine to, you know, make it do something, but none had the stupidity or gullibility or suicidal tendencies to pilot that thing. It looked so bad that piloting the thing seemed to be a dishonor to the national symbolisms Emperor Yoshiro espoused. In short, it was doomed, by sheer ugliness, even before it fired its first shot. So everyone went back home to rest and regret, even the robot admiral that does not really need sleep since it is a robot.

The unnamed Imperial commander is obviously annoyed by the thought of wasting the Emperor's blessing just when the Emperor is very angry at their seeming incompetence, so he personally visited Commander Ninja (not his real name) in his quarters. The unnamed commander is amazed by the sheer size of the ninja commander's quarters, and wondered of what possible zany use would a ninja have for a large room, empty except for a giant garden statue in ninja garb wielding a massive Naginata.

The unnamed commander then heard a weird, robotic voice. "Commander."

"What was that?" The sound seemed to emanate from the oddly-dressed garden statue. "Where are you hiding, Commander Ninja (not your real name)? We need to talk concerning the Emperor's Blessing."

"I'm hiding in plain sight, and it works you fool. Now what are we supposed to talk about?"

"Look, Commander Ninja (not your real name), I know that you are a ninja (and that's not your real name) and thus you prefer to be hidden to anything, but can't we talk man to man? This matter is very important for the Imperial military, and I prefer to talk seeing the face of my listener."

"Make me."

"It is dishonorable to talk about these things when one is hiding and the other is fully exposed."

The garden statue in ninja garb with a large lance then moved up to the unnamed Imperial commander, grabbed a chair for the man and a broken nanocore for him/itself to sit on, then prepared some tea from its internals. "What do you want to talk about?"

"What are you doing inside that DevilCoat? Weren't you already able to walk freely when we visited the Emperor?"

"He punched me, remember? He punched me so hard; and I was not in the position nor in the physique to dodge him; the doctors told me that the Emperor's punch was so strong that I would be DevilCoat-ridden for life. That's the power of divinity for you. The bastard. So what were you saying again?"

"It is about the Emperor's 'blessing'. Somebody has to man it, and none of our troops are willing to even look at that thing. We have to do something about it."

"Right. And what are you proposing, unnamed commander?"

"Admiral 898 is 'asleep', right? Wake him up to try convincing the admiral to captain the ugly vessel, and..."

-000-

The next day, Admiral 898 is wondering what is it doing inside the Emperor's 'Blessing', and why it seems to be stuck there.


	19. Not the End of the World

To better hide the whatever abilities their aircraft had due to Commander Ninja (not his real name)'s insistence, the thing is officially designated as an 'airborne assault platform', hoping to fool the Filipinos into thinking that the weird spinning-head aircraft is made to combat flying citadels instead of the Filipinos' land-based redoubts. But first the Emperor's 'Blessing' had to work, despite lacking anyone willing or able to steer the thing. Also, both the vengeful-but-otherwise-unremarkable commander and the ninja commander are both hiding in their bunkers just in case their co-commander (now stuck in that hideous parody of a Giga-Fortress) flips out and destroys them in its sheer semiconductor-y wrath.

Nonetheless, based on its own personal analysis of the machine it has now been integrated to last night without its knowing, and of its own processing capabilities, Admiral 898 concluded that it could better operate the Emperor's 'Blessing' than any non-siliceous life form, like chrysanthemums or llamas. And especially Japanese co-commanders. Part of the reason why Admiral 898 captaining the aircraft would be better is that both the robot admiral and the aircraft are both siliceous, and thus compatible with one another. Another is that the cabin is a tad bit too small, too twisted, and too connected to the Wave-Force generators to actually be of any use, though to actually put a human being there in the cabin would produce a spectacular show of the various components of him or her resonating at different frequencies to much discomfort for the human being, until he or she dies from becoming fragmented through and through. And finally, up there on a giant flying machine Admiral 898 could see the battlefield better than at a crummy bunker, and could command accordingly. It's just a pity the admiral's co-commanders could not join it in the Emperor's 'Blessing' to supervise the operations; surely there is enough space in the assault platform's cabin for both of them, "1010. Chuckle. 1011."

So Admiral 898 activates all systems and checks for problems with the impressive quadruple-redundant diagnostics system, with an even more impressive amount of errors showing up simultaneously only for the notification to be deleted after a few seconds, to indicate that the problem has been fixed. Apparently, the sheer amount of design defects in the thing meant that what could have been a very powerful auto-repair system is instead dedicated to fixing the various parts of the assault platform despite the assault platform itself being undamaged by the rigors of war, with what little repair potential left to actually repair in-battle damage. This meant that, remarkably, the assault platform is in a state of "dynamic integrity", where the assault platform is still an assault platform (and not a fireball or a Wave-Forceball) not because it is structurally sound, but because it is under constant repair such as that any structural damage is fixed just in time for another structural damage to appear. Amazing machine, really.

So the organic commanders watched as that menacing grinning severed head of an airborne assault platform actually goes, you know, airborne. They watched as the thing slowly rises from the ground, swaying a bit due to light winds, and then it suddenly lurches dangerously tipping at a side starboard I think but at an angle not accounted for by the Imperial engineers! Then the assault platform stabilizes; who knew that the senior engineer's idea of using a massive amount of maneki nekos as gyroscopic stabilizer and simultaneous luck relay would actually work? As the assault platform rises, it begins to rotate slowly, increasing in angular velocity slowly, until it achieves the slow, lazy angular velocity required to keep the assault platform stable while hovering in place. The ground personnel breathed a sigh of relief; they won't be fireballed or Wave-Forceballed today, they think.

"Admiral, how is the airborne assault platform?"  
>"1010. I feel dizzy. 1011"<p>

Then the Emperor's 'Blessing' spews a pair of powerful Wave-Force beams from its dual oral cannons, hitting a nearby reef too close to the commanders' bunkers for comfort.

"1010. Pardon my MANNERS. That felt better...Now, to fulfill the Empire's DESTINY! 1011."

The assault platform then tilts west, slowly propelling itself with its crummy engines, seemingly stable, not rocking back and forth, with all systems seemingly still operational. So far.

At this point, the Shirada Shipworks contact person notified his superiors of the potential of mounting an artificial intelligence on their prototype wonder weapon instead of people, so that the shipwrights would not need to bother about the big problem with the project's doors and human waste disposal system.

So the invasion force then plotted an invasion course, with the primary one (i. e. the one with the Emperor's Blessing) to move to the island of Panay, west of Guimaras Island, then move north up Romblon, possibly Mindoro, as secondary bases, then invade the capital city of Manila with a more direct southern route, landing either at Cavite or any of the adjacent provinces, or at Bataan. The secondary invasion force would just invade anything else.


	20. Civilians and Combatants

Wedding.

"You may kiss the bride." And there was much rejoicing. The whole barangay is excited for the newly-weds because there would be free food at the reception, so they gatecrashed the wedding.

Then the whole church shook for a microsecond, and it imploded.

"1010. Enemy demoralization operation successful...Surrender. 1011."

No response. No survivors. Only the grim accuracy of its siliceous mind, and the ruins of a church where a barangay-ful of Filipinos once happily congregated.

-000-

Evacuation.

The peals of the bells of the Church of San Miguel, as a whole town ran into the old building, hoping to somehow survive the Japanese invasion by huddling inside this divine structure.

"1010. Only the EMPEROR is divine. 1011."

Heavy particles shot through the pillars, the walls, the belfry, the dome of the church, piercing, detonating, shredding the hapless civilians inside. It was hopeless; the priest sacrificed his life trying to protect the cildren, but the beam ripped through all of them. Statues of the saints were shattered, shards of stained glass windows impaled tens of civilians, chandeliers smashed skulls.

"1010. Enemy demoralization protocol on-going. CRUSH their MORALE. Show them what they really believe IN. 1011."

-000-

Battle.

Platoons of Constables are busy fighting off the massive invasion force that has landed on the province of Quezon. The battle was desperate, Mecha Tengus were ripping the soldiers to shreds while penny-packets of Martel Tanks were being picked off by the Emperor's Blessing. Filipino anti-aircraft jets were flying in all directions trying to down this hideous monstrosity of a siege engine, only to realize too late that the thing is bristling with weapons aimed at them as well.

"1010. They are barbaric soldiers. Teach them HONOR. Do not give them a chance to surrender; give no quarter. 1011."

Then suddenly, a bunch of Mecha Tengus changed their external electro-polychromic allegiance indicator from the gaudy yellow of the Empire of the Rising Sun, to Philippine colours. Suddenly, Imperial forces cowered and retreated fully as quickly as possible, knowing the immensity of the force that has just walked in. The Filipino forces, on the other hand, are too dead to retreat, leaving the two on a one-on-one battle.

"1010. Sairen. Finally. 1011."


	21. Missing Somebody

Turiano Carpio now stands alone against the hideous humongous airborne siege platform that brutally annihilated whole platoons, demolished whole towns, massacred countless helpless civilians, and killed any other Filipino soldier that could have stood with him against the aforementioned hideous humongous airborne siege platform.

Admiral 898, in command of the Emperor's 'Blessing', also stands alone against this unarmed military philosopher who by himself caused spasms and convulsions to equally countless Imperial foot soldiers, crumpled the steely alloys of the Empire's VX forces with mere words, and even convinced a navy of the best and most loyal Japanese to double-cross the Emperor himself.

They now stand against each other, one on one. On this day the battle-lines are drawn, a circumference around the military philosopher, and another circumference around the airborne assault platform. But since the battle is clearly not in favor of Turiano Carpio, he convinced a bunch of Mecha Tengus to fight for his cause against an airborne foe that the military philosopher himself could not damage. After all, why fight mano a mano when you can bring your own army. Or in this case, bring your foe's.

So now the battle-lines are once again hard to draw, with a bunch of Jet Tengus racing towards the Emperor's 'Blessing' while Turiano Carpio observes the battle, conducting studies for his paper concerning airborne assault platforms. But instead of Admiral 898 trying to fend off the incoming enlightened traitors, he fires all fore Wave-Force cannons at the philosopher, an event of which is an interesting combat variance to the military philosopher and is thus worth noting as well.

But then, those were four initial Wave-Force beams at full power, with more beams coming up just in case.

But then again, he is Turiano Carpio.

So meanwhile, Maki and Ichiro are lovingly still floating around, figuratively. Having realized that there is more in life than the war, they decided to have a nice break from the war, where they could cuddle around like kids madly in love. Then a weird, short wave of insufficiently described force, or feeling, or destiny, or reality swept over them. The couple noticed the odd sensation for a second, then went back to their romantic activities.

Savieroski Galloski has just finished a meeting with his suki, and the descendants of his former mafia, for a trade deal concerning arms, aircraft, land, aircraft, troops, aircraft, wenches, airline tickets, and other assets. A strange sensation assaulted his old frame for a while, then left him. The very old Italy-born Russian commander-crime lord dusted off whatever that was, and went back to his quarters.

So meanwhile again, Turiano Carpio knew what that bombardment of Wave-Force beam would do to him. Not that it mattered, since he had yet another paper concerning the nature of death, and this event is a fortunate occurrence.

Turiano Carpio felt, or perceived...it doesn't matter anyway since he already knew beforehand exactly what was happening: the beams slowly destroying the already-strained bonds barely keeping him in this plane of existence, leading the military philosopher towards the next plane of existence only approachable by someone so versed in the philosophy of war that he became... one with a higher plane of existence he created by sheer philosophy, ascended there by massive energies breaking the philosopher's binds with this world. Like a captive animal set free to roam where it belongs. Like the essence of a rose before being turned into an exquisite, yet subtle perfume. Like Maki from her flight suit, with Ichiro around to help disassemble the delicate thing. Like a Conscript without a commissar. Like a Kirov freed from its moorings. Like everything the Allies fought for. Like what he, Turiano Carpio himself, dedicated himself for his country. Liberation. Sort of. This environment is indeed conducive for further studies of war, and he knows it.

He is simply dead, for all Imperial intents and purposes. And Admiral 898 rejoiced, knowing that the death of Turiano Carpio would mean the crumbling of Filipino morale. Then Jet Tengus caught up with it.


	22. Thousandword Elegy

The effect of Turiano Carpio's death was immense. The Imperial soldiers, long fed up of continuous defeats after being thwarted by this mysterious megaphoned man, were all greatly refreshed, and went back to the offensive with much spirit. The effect on the invasion force was so great that for the next four hours no one committed hara kiri, and instead fought valiantly against the 'barbarians' and the traitorous Carpio-enlightened Jet Tengus that tried to kill the Emperor's Blessing. Even the Yuriko Omega clone deployed in the Philippines, the one that floated out of the battlefield after being bombarded by feces back in Chapter 16, floated back to the battlefield in service of the Emperor once again after immediately sensing the massive shift in the battlefield conditions. For the first time in her accelerated, cloned life she was smiling, and the Imperial troops who saw her had to acknowledge how pretty she really is if she were less weaponized angsty teenager and more...genki pixie dreamer sunflower-and-cute-cats happy type of girl. In just five minutes, this massive, hideous airborne siege platform has done what neither whole armies nor surface action groups could do: kill the Sairen. Almost immediately all the troops thanked the Emperor in their own hearts and pagers for blessing them with such an immensely powerful weapon that eliminated, in one quick stroke, the greatest headache the Imperial Invasion Force: Philippines.

The 'barbarians', on the other hand, were able to set up defensive lines quickly, taking the very quick lull to run away as quickly as possible to the hastily built bases. And after some 30-minutes of intense, self-congratulatory, intense, manly hugging and other more rather-unmentionable activities done in a state of general ecstasy on the Imperial side, the fury of the whole divinely-inspired Emperor's Imperial Invasion Force: Philippines finally fell upon these shabby Filipino lines. Go figure.

Take into account that on those thirty aforementioned minutes of pure euphoria, the Japanese were almost rabidly happy, and somehow ironically managed to weaken themselves combat-wise by hugging foot soldiers accidentally pushing each others' Honorable Discharge buttons (it was a manly hug!), as well as King Onis somehow hugging other Imperial mechanized units to their destruction. Rocket Angels hugging each other managed to melt each others' form-fitting flight suits to their eventual, premature decommissioning. And all that, before the other more...special activities that tend to occur when exultation, isolation en masse, extreme loyalty, and enforced bloodlust all comingle.

All that time while commanding Imperial troops to attack the Filipino instant meatgrinder Admiral 898 was wondering how the puny Filipinos managed to put up such a stiff resistance. It seemed that morale; the Filipinos had more of it than even the admiral's own Imperial troops! It seemed that despite Turiano Carpio, the great commando-commanders' commandant commando philosopher, dying by the robot admiral's very nostrils and mouth the Filipinos did not seem to care. Their champion has fallen, surely that should have broken their spirits, their willingness to fight. "1010. ImpoSSIble. 1011."

The truth is actually closer to the ground than Admiral 898 is. Constable Perez was holding his position quite well. His artillery unit was pounding on the Imperial mechanized assets with Black Hole shells, and was looking relatively uninterested in his task. Years of listening to local radio and their sappy heartbreak songs can do that to a man, it seems. Less sense of nationalism, really, and more of sense of paycheck, with a rather strong camaraderie with his unit, is what sustains him. A general unwillingness to die, despite being somehow overwhelmed and cornered, helps too. In fact, had it not been for the Japanese tendency to make a POW's life harsher than it should be the whole unit must have surrendered immediately; he is from Mindanao, and was requested to fight a war that had nothing to do with his island! But then, he is there, using his artillery to attract Imperial munitions and units unwillingly, slamming them into horribly crushed forms. He is cool with the Philippine Government, and despite not having such a massive fondness for the country he's good with the pay and the career opportunities. He needed no morale at all; his enemies already looked helplessly as their light vehicles got pierced by their own anti-tank shells, while being rammed at the gluteus maximus control unit of a nearby allied King Oni.

"1010. Such VALOR. 1011."

On with the bloodshed then. The admiral's troops are charging a full frontal assault on the hasty Filipino positions with negative success, and somehow not even the Admiral's continuous bombardment could stop the senseless death of its mooks.

"1010. Such MoraLE. 1011."

In remembrance of the KIA commando, other COs are talking about how being in Turiano Carpio's classes sucked. Apparently, military philosophy under him is so intense that his lectures are turned into drinking games: a bottle of beer for every classmate that fainted, or nosebled,or walked out of the room. Bonus bottle for every bulletproof glass window or platform plank that is shattered by the sheer weight of his teachings. And any officer that passes his course gets promoted immediately; that is standard protocol, which somehow perfectly explains the lack of commanders in the Philippine Constabulary. And meanwhile...

Admiral 898 somehow stumbled into so many contradictions on that day without even torrenting Turiano Carpio's teachings. The Emperor says the key to victory is by destroying the enemy's morale. By destroying Turiano Carpio, there is no locus of morale, and under such a decentralized structure collective morale should fall, which would lead to victory for the Empire in 2.657 hours. Victory does not yet happen. Warning.

The next day the organic commanders found their siliceous co-commander's airborne vessel lazily spinning, silent guns not discharging, while the units under its command are being slaughtered in confusion via lack of meaningful direction and communication, with the Filipinos on the verge of a counterattack. Whoops. Immense effects indeed.


	23. Home Alone, the Fourth World

Officer Mabini is having a bad day. He has just come home from Manila, defeated in the country's premier golf tournament for the top brass of the Philippine Constabulary, only to find his forces decimated ten times by the surprise Japanese invasion which has opened a lot of fronts simultaneously on a wide coast spanning multiple provinces, of which the remaining 34.867844% of his command is trying very hard to defend. Worse, he bet all of his military reserve forces on himself during the golf tournament that he would have no extra manpower or materiel sent by High Command. Just his luck that the province under his defense would be the same province where Turiano Carpio fell bloodlessly in combat with a ridiculous flying garroted head. And to further rub in his sheer unluckiness that day, his very house has just been chosen by the Japanese as a strategic structure to be garrisoned.

Suddenly, betting pink slips or hard cash became a much better alternative to betting reserves, but who could have thought that the Japanese advance could move so quickly? Not him, certainly.

Maybe he should have used the wood at the 17th, or perhaps accepted the shift in command offered to him, or perhaps not put his house on top of a nice hill overlooking the coastline on one side and the countryside on the other.

Yeah, war now sucks.

So Officer Mabini enters his house, only to be surprised to find a bunch of Imperial Warriors running behind him. He then slams the door against the leading Japanese foot soldier, whose gun became stuck on the wooden door. The officer had barely enough time to dodge when the spirited Imperial trooper shot through the door, destroying a television. Whipping out his balisong, the officer flips the knife's blade out, and then quickly rams it into the first element of the Japanese squad. The first element's body is then used as a meat shield by the officer, who charges against the rest of the Imperial squad in a stabby manner. After noticing that most of their squadmates are gone, the last two elements of the squad then took out their beam katanas and tried to slice the officer, who then blocked one katana with his trusty knife and grasped the other beam katana at its hilt, then suddenly shifting his weight quickly to force his two foes on the ground, then stomped on their throats hard.

He then grabbed the soldiers' kinetic carbines by the barrel, which is good because the two barrels were then immediately sliced by beam katanas, removing the softer grip, stock and magazine and leaving only the gun barrels (with his hands attached) for the officer. Grinning madly (for the Emperor of course) the two Imperial warriors swung horizontally to cross-section the officer twice, who ducked in time and smashed their kneecaps with the gun barrels he was left holding. The Imperial Warriors crumpled to the ground, then had their heads bopped by the officer for good measure. The officer then ran back to his house, grabbing his balisong as well as all guns that he could scavenge from the incapacitated Japanese.

Tankbusters and Shinobi then came. Not good, the Shinobi are the masters of anti-infantry combat and the Tankbusters, well their weapons still hurt. Perched on his bedroom window Officer Mabini readies his personal Danao 45, fits his trusty balisong on the personalized bayonet grip, and then shakes its laser sights on the incoming Shinobi to distract them. To his amazement, the Shinobi stared at the cute little red laser dot dancing around them, and despite the conditions being too ridiculous to be distracted by something stupid like that they still decided to follow red laser dot like little children. Apparently dedicating all your life to the Emperor is not enough of a preparation for a war with a surprisingly tough foe they did not even give effort to intel, and these Shinobi despite all their skill and training just broke down at the sight of an innocuous, harmless, little red laser dot flitting around them like a fairy. The officer wondered how badly were these Shinobi denied of simple liberties as kids, and how timely it is for their inhibitions to break down in an odd case of shell shock, or how convenient it is to have an empty well by his house. So naturally he rested his laser sight in the well, then the Shinobi jumped in quickly into a well that the officer's household has been using to store various trash like broken beer bottles, rusty nails, and spent Soviet Super Reactor fuel from their Mongolian generator.

The Tankbusters were less distracted by the lasers, probably because they had a weapon that shot a yellow beam of destruction and thus had no interest in pathetic little red beams of light. They and their wide-brimmed hats were easy pickings, but the officer did not another squad of Imperial troops entering by his back door. Rapid shots covered the whole house as Imperial Warriors shot through the heavy wooden doors, before kicking it in with Beam Katanas to cut down any hiding enemy to size. Rapid, efficient, and effective worldwide. The officer quickly hid under his bed, where he found half-empty bottles of Kozacy Vodka, with a hint of engine oil. He doesn't buy that ridiculously overpriced import! But less time for worrying about marital infidelities; he's got to survive first, and makes makeshift Molotov cocktails he learned from the silly two-week Conscript Training Seminar the Philippine Constabulary hosted some two years before. What a waste of time that was, with videos of Conscripts shooting various fruits. Their favorite target was the watermelon; their least favorite was the cherry. But enough about reminiscing the peaceful past, because slugs have begun to rip through the door and shatter his window. Wondering if he paid for insurance, the officer held his breath while Imperial Warriors searched the room for enemies... and shot it. It was the ubiquitous tiny plastic crucifix of the Christian God, and was competing with the Emperor's place in divinity. Now really pissed off, the officer sneakily tossed his bottle onto the helmet of one of the Imperial Warriors, silently praying that the heathen troops may have the thought of fiery Christian hell stuck on their minds. It was good timing as well, because the officer introduced the burning-head Japanese to the afterlife, together with the Japanese's squadmates who in confusion did not react well to the fire on their squadmates' head and the superheated slugs in their carotids, cerebra, coronary arteries, and spleen.

Noticing the commotion, some other Japanese infantry rushed to the scene, where the first to come gazed in horror at the sight of a gun pointed at him, then did not notice the hand that grasped his armor and threw him out of the window. The next two Japanese to respond to the noise upstairs were greeted with a blast of the Danao 45's Grummond underbarrel, which knocked them both off their feet, off the corridor, and into the coffee table. Which was made of hard narra wood. The officer just got out of his burning room, when another Imperial Warrior rushed at him Beam Katana raised. The officer quickly kicked the sword-wielding guy into the room, into the fire, and then closed the door.

Ripping through the Imperial Warriors and Tankbusters that got in the way, he noticed a slight shift in the wind. Suddenly, a Shinobi slashed the officer's back! Or rather, tried, but the officer was wearing a back brace due to polio. Somehow, the clumsy brace that allowed him to walk with apparent normality actually saved his life, and even gave him a hardened backbone he can rely on. So Officer Mabini threw himself back first against the backstabbing Shinobi, and the surprised Shinobi was hit on the head by this odd attack that he did not anticipate, rather preparing his sword for a clean sweep on the neck in case his target spins around to shoot him. The knocked-out Shinobi served as a comfortable place to lie, which was nice because with the reduced profile the officer did not have to worry that much about superheated slugs grazing against his uniform anymore.

Then problem. He has just run out of caseless rounds. No problem, he quickly rose from a lying position and pounced on the next Imperial Warrior that ran in, dug his bayonet-balisong into one of his target's Islet of Langerhans, and then quickly took the bandoliers he scattered throughout his house. He then texted for backup, and began to make the mad dash towards his car only to find it burning, with hundreds of troops standing just outside. Enemy troops. They then poured slugs on the house, shooting without stopping, saturating the walls with so much slugs that a Magnetic Satellite could pick up the house as well. The officer then ran back inside because the hell with that, but was still hit by the slugs.

In agony he lie, the stress of the day beginning to make him delirious, while in the back of his mind he could hear the lessons he learned back at academy. Familiar lessons, but something he knew he could never grasp in full. The shooting then stopped, and the abrupt silence only made the lesson from his past easier to hear. He then lost consciousness.


	24. The Defiled Blessing

Eliminating the malevolently-designed head has now become priority one. And for this very mission, the Philippine Constabulary has activated a unit from the days of the Filipino 'Insurrection', from the days of yonder back when electricity was a marvel and Spanish was the lingua franca. Back before Manuel Quezon headed the Philippine Commonwealth, back before Luis Taruc was able to curb rampant American monopolizing by bringing in Soviet collectives. It was so far back that it even predated the Philippine Constabulary itself, dating back to the Philippine Army itself. They are the original elite 25-man group headed by one Cpt. Garcia, who specialized in sabotage, assassination, and other unconventional warfare strategies even before the British decided to train their commandoes half a century later. They were so good, that they were rumored to be turned into the Presidente Emilio Aguinaldo's honor guard itself and somehow the elite commando unit just lost their primary advantage of being unrestricted by Philippine Army matters. They are the Guardia Negra, a small handpicked group of soldiers able to sneak-and-wreak havoc, destruction, and other damage to logistics, morale, and general military upkeep of any opposing force, debilitating any foe's ability to use their armed forces properly. All in defense of the Philippines.

So the Philippine Constabulary picked up a chosen bunch of soldiers known for displays of skill and initiative, introduced them to each other, then discussed plans on how to destroy Admiral 898's flagship. The Guardia Negra's unanimous proposal is surprisingly simple: infect the ship with a powerful virus which none of them knew how to encode, because they are seasoned veterans of various battles and not computer programmers.

Yes, the Philippine Constabulary revived the Guardia Negra to be given not merely wanton destruction, but a precise surgical solution that would not involve the Guardia Negra at all. Well that was nice. The Philippine Constabulary still went on with the Guardia Negra's plan and recruited the best programmers in the lands; only to find them all huddled in some musty computer shop playing _Philippine Insurrection 2_. Charged with creating a powerful virus that could somehow breach the firewalls and anti-viral systems of the Emepror's 'Blessing', the programmers then revealed what they have: a misprogrammed videogame mod that somehow has gone awry and turned their computers into a nagging, crazy, racist thing that seemed to be already half-sentient.

That's nice and all, but the virus has to be placed into the Emperor's 'Blessing' autonomous computer systems. So the Guardia Negra is once again called upon, now for the much simpler task of inserting this cartridge somewhere on the assault platform. Just in case, a diskette, a floppy disk, a CD, a USB, a powerful magnet, and an actual bug are given just in case the insertion matrix has a different format. The new Guardia Negra groaned, but then off they go with their mission because it's an order, a duty for the Philippines, and is much better than being in the front lines as a simple foot soldier.

Not really. The Guardia Negra managed to divert recruits to do the job, while they acted as the eyes, ears, and brain for the mission, with the recruits armed with a basic Danao 45, a walkie-talkie, and the virus itself. The eager young cadets were then put into Bullfrogs.

Meanwhile, Admiral 898, in command of the Emperor's 'Blessing', is enjoying its time destroying Philippine defenses. The robot admiral has just been rebooted from a philosophical error experienced from killing Turiano Carpio the Filipino war philosopher, and is now back to being an invulnerable airborne assault platform. Simply flying around, zapping barbarians with its powerful Wave-Force cannons, it notices a motley collection of old vehicles rushing towards it. The robot admiral then quickly notices a Bullfrog with its flak cannons aimed towards it, and then aims its cannons at the incoming anti-air car. Inside the Bullfrog, five Guardia Negra recruits have been given the go signal to be launched into the head, with four of them managing to be launched while the fifth recruit was blasted with the rest of the Bullfrog; only his decapacitated head and torso were ejected and it was a very bloody disgusting sight that the rest of his team did not notice where they were going, mercifully. One strayed straight into the path of a Wave-Force beam and was vapourized, another flew straight smack into the Kagami shields and was "deflected" back a few thousand feet to the ground, yet another impacted the flying head with his own head and broke a neck or two, and the last guy simply missed the ship altogether and went MIA.

"Whoops. Good thing we have spare people."

The Guardia Negra was unfazed, and then advanced an old Sickle walker with Guardia Negra recruits inside, which was launched with a Pop-up SPAM. The Sickle managed to land, and land hard, but its occupants still got off the machine and then waited for support as the Guardia Negra has promised. And the Guardia Negra indeed has delivered: two Bullfrogs and a Sickle were lifted up by a hacked Magnetic Satellite, with one Bullfrog man-cannoning its payload on the head of the Emperor's Blessing. The Sickle was then Orbitally Dropped onto the assault platform after, while the second Bullfrog fell back the way it came, ejecting even more Guardia Negra recruits into the waiting deck of the Imperial ship.

"Now go. Usad."

The recruits then were left to infect the ship according to their own devices. Some began to randomly shoot the ship with their Danao 45's, only to be 'deflected' by the Kagami nanoparticles. Seeing their comrades being painfully stuck and screaming in the energy web, piece by piece, the rest of the recruits then decided that it would be wiser to instead explore the ship. And wella, an actual door! What a coincidence. So the survivors opened the door, only for the troops at the front of the door to be electrocuted to a freak, lethal wave of electricity. Apparently, the Imperial engineers did not think much for the layout of the ship, and their complacency ironically served the Empire well. Forced to find a new place with which to breach the ship, they then decided to crack open the turrets. Rappelling down the eye of the flying head, they then tried to kick open the cannon barrels. One of the troopers managed to get his leg vapourized before his very eyes through this method though, so the remaining recruits tried scaling around the head, trying to find that pesky entrance. And what do you know, the eye seems vulnerable. Leaning in under the energy shield to, you know, not become a part of it, the then broke the eye with rifle butts, when from the ground the incessant anti-aircraft fire began hitting the bunch and killing at least one. He went limp, and lost control over his cable, dangling on the left nostril cannon.

Not a pretty sight, but still the work waits. Grimly. The survivors broke the eye, and then hauled themselves inside what seems to be a nice, perception-screwed, twisted cabin, able to hold a veritable detachment of interior defense troops, or even tactical command group. It's a flying headquarters! They gazed with wonder at the architecture of this thing, and then looked at each other. They noticed some of their teammates, er, resonating at different frequencies relative to their other body parts.

"Aw crap. Evacuate!"

The less-resonated members of the team were able to run away, their less fortunate teammates were obviously not as lucky, and disintegrated instead. But in retrospect, perhaps those that died early may be the lucky ones, since they do not have to experience the rest of the royally screwed interior. Of the survivors, one guy began to smell bad, because probably of the shock he experienced, so he excused himself and went to the conveniently-marked bathroom. The rest of the team decided to move on without him, towards the nearest USB port which they had no idea where inside the massive, cavernous ship could be. It was a whole mess, with random discharges of resonance throughout the ship causing aneurisms, heart attacks, sensory assault, impolite stimulations, and incontinence. In the end, the severely weakened and dehydrated team members were too weak to move, and are incapable of fending themselves against the ship's auto-repair drones, that used the recruits' guns, clothes, CD-ROMs and other storage devices, and other personal accessories to repair the collapsing ship. In the end, the recruits' bodies themselves were used as repair material for the ship, and having one's own leg pried off by a cute repair drone seemingly too innocent to know what it was doing, incorporating their beloved leg into the ship they are trying hard to take down is a very, very sickening sight.

The mission was a failure.

The only survivor, which for our convenience we would call PoopMan due to his convenient excusing himself to use the restroom, is finally done relieving himself. He then casually flushes the toilet, and then notices the various warning signs surrounding the flush button. He quickly zips his pants and braces himself as the ship began to shudder violently. The Shirada Shipworks zaibatsu is indeed one of the best in ship construction, but obviously not even its Mainland Japan engineers could solve the problem of mounting a proper toilet on a weird airborne-seaborne transforming thing, thus speculations abound within the zaibatsu as to why the sudden alliance with competitor Tenzai Robotics: their expertise in soft-spoken battle AI technology would eliminate the need for pesky human necessities like non-killer doors and a working waste collection system.

PoopMan, now wondering what has just happened, opened the door to see his teammates playing dead in the distance. Or perhaps really dead. All of them. Oh crap. Meanwhile the repair drones shorted out as the water began to flush into the communication arrays instead of the storage bags, and the gunky excrement began to badly damage the servers, self-diagnostics, and all the vital innards of the ship. Admiral 898, fully integrated into the now-decaying computerized of the systems of the ship, began to babble nonsense across all the communication networks. The troops under its direct command, all mechanized forces, tried to follow these orders, or what they understood of it, and performed jumping jacks in the middle of the battlefield with their mechas despite knowing too well of the stupidity of what they were doing. Forced to retreat due to the critical errors and subsequent structural damage it was receiving from itself, Admiral 898 teetered back, as if drunk, and bobbed the head up and down, side by side, so dangerously close to the ground that taller structures were knocked down. The Emperor's 'Blessing's' cracks expanded quickly as its auto-repair mechanisms were downed by faulty toilet engineering. The Guardia Negra cheered as they watched on CCTV their mission becoming successful without even getting out of their rooms, and concluded that they need more recruits.

Meanwhile, PoopMan called his old pal on his cellular telephone, other hand still holding onto the toilet dispenser, posting a bounty for the assassination of this floating head he is stuck in.


	25. Arc Royal Story

The man aims his gun on his quarry. But his quarry is not a bird, but a head. He does not care whose head it is; it is easier to pull the trigger if you don't care about the history of your target. His target moves across the battlefield, past the chaos of Japanese invaders clashing against back-against-the-wall Filipino defenders in what may be the bloodiest battle in Philippine soil. Not even the Balangiga massacre could hold a candle against the rampant church-razing total war scenario in the CaLaBaRZon region of southern Luzon, had the Balagiga massacre been, you know, not as real as it sadly is.

In his reticle the head is still scurrying back. Japanese forces rallied around that head for weeks, and now it is pay time. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep the target tracked by the sights, follow the head, and wait for it to stop for a moment. The wind picks up a little. Don't shoot yet, wind estimation is too risky for a shot like this. Wait for the wind to calm down, wait for that head to catch its breath. The field can't hide his target now.

Pause.

The chance, it is just there. The target stopped moving. No hesitation, no time to breathe. Hold the breath, tap the trigger. The shot flew through the air, straight and true. A millisecond of a dark mass appeared in the reticle. Chunky salsa time.

The man aims his gun on his quarry. But his quarry is not a bird, but a head. He does not care whose head it is; but unlike most heads, this head flies like a bird. And there is no body attached to it. Chunky airborne assault platform time.

"Headshot."

"Sir, it's all head."

"Aww, shut up Vlad! But still, look at how it crashes onto Imperial enemies below. I must have shot something good."

"But sir, you are using a twin Drakon mount, with extra high explosives."

"Well, true that, but still do you know how hard it is to target that thing? Had it not been for the explosives we have been granted access to years ago we could not even kill sheep with a full salvo!"

"Er, sir, that head you just shot, it is much larger than even a Kirov sir. And it's still all head."

"Urgh. Just…just call that Italian and tell him that we are to collect the bounty."

"Sir, we are told to collect the bounty from the Filipino forces sir."

The elite tank division then moved towards the Philippine HQ, but the tanks' neutral colors meant nothing to the Imperial divisions they just tried passed through: the Japanese attacked the unaffiliated Soviet armor despite being obviously attached to no command. In self-defense, the Soviet armor plowed through the soft Japanese rear, disrupting telecommunications, logistics, and a good deal of the Imperial invasion force in their way to the Filipinos, even plowing through the Imperial battlefront from behind. The astounded Japanese found themselves squished between a hardened line of Filipino defenders and an invulnerable advance of powerful Apocalypse tanks, sometimes literally. The Filipinos sensed that, based on the sheer power and number of Apocalypse tanks rumbling towards them, that they should not mess with these odd groups of Soviets. The tanks then paused before the first Filipino trench. The Constables watched, as the lead tank opened its hatch, and the lost commander of the lost Soviet army appeared. Commander Ivan Ivanovichski, the hero of Chapter 7, has just emerged from his tank, all stitched up and in bandages, with his Soviet Philippine Heavy-Armored Command reduced to being a mere mercenary force focused on survival. And he was there, looking for a bounty. No one knew anything about the bounty, nor understood what he was talking about, so the force was ushered into Philippine Field HQ. The force promptly received a paycheck from that odd recruit the command nicknamed "PoopMan", and was offered a job of being integrated into Philippine command, but as an autonomous armored unit. Think less of Soldier With a Call of Duty and more of a Mercenary Contract Worker. The commander politely declined, but as guest of the Philippine people he and his troops were invited to enjoy the finest the Philippines had to offer.

That night, Commander Ivan Ivanovichski secretly emailed the Imperial Invasion Force commanders Ninja (not his real name) and unremarkable (also not his real name), who were in the middle of another funeral for the late Admiral 898 (but since somebody always had a backup copy of the admiral, it wasn't really that much of a funeral as a simple copy-paste). The Soviet commander offered full use of his forces, for a price, but was instantly turned down "because the Empire would not rely on barbarian help!" Well, the decision should be crystal-clear for Ivan then.

The next day Commander Ivan Ivanovichski and the rest of the just-renamed Soviet Expeditionary Heavy-Armored Force to the Philippines pushed the battle lines forward by miles, saving important and priceless Philippine historical treasures and landmarks from certain Imperial defilation. The fact that the Emperor's Blessing has just been "assassinated" by the Soviets made the push a whole lot easier, with Soviet and Philippine troops fighting side by side. Indeed, Hammer tank crewmen just can't help but look at the Martel tanks rumbling beside them, and note the extreme similarities between their vehicles. An Apocalypse tank was taken aside and studied by Filipino engineeros for evaluation and upgrades. And finally, PoopMan has been rescued from the caverns of the assault platform he set a bounty on. True, he was neck-deep in sewage-smeared silicon, but he was alive enough to serve at the procurement office, where PoopMan's affiliations with the underground arms "transfer" groups having replenished Philippine armories quickly enough for the counterattack to be sustained.

The remains of the Imperial invasion of Luzon have began to break down even faster.


	26. A Backstory of a Communist

The hiring of Soviet mercenaries has led to a bitter stalemate between the Imperial Army and the combined Philippine-Soviet 'coalition', even if the Soviet government could not actually supply their forces there with even just a simple bottle of vodka. Of course, the breweries back at Vladivostok are having a hard time supplying all the Soviet troops preparing to invade Japan, but that doesn't mean that the Soviet forces in the Philippines should be written off as dead. And that certainly doesn't mean that the Russian government would not even answer Commander Ivan's phone calls; those payphones cost a fortune to use in wars like these!

Indeed, the war has isolated the Philippines from the rest of the world. The embassies fell silent since their home governments would not send any message, and neither could the embassies transmit messages to their respective governments. The few Allied stragglers that joined the Philippine Constabulary could not send even a text message back home, nor could chat with their loved ones; the Japanese presumably cut the internet cables and the telephone cables. Even long-wave frequencies on radio are dead, preventing anyone from listening to the Voice of America.

But before we continue, ever wondered what Commander Ivan Ivanovskivich, er, Ivanovichski, whatever…was doing in Southern Luzon? When we left him broken and mangled after his Super Reactor-based heroism?

It started one day, in the Soviet Union. Ivan was born to his parents, obviously, whose family name was very difficult to remember correctly, leading young Ivan to odd cases of being shipped to all the wrong places after school, like Brazil, America, or Saudi Arabia. He eventually managed to get back always, with new experiences like nothing at all compared to home. In fact, it was in America where he met his first sweetheart, a girl named Amy who worked as a barista, and with her he grew a passion for coffee. True, Amy was a materialistic bastard who managed to further ignite anti-American sympathies within Ivan, but his love for coffee stuck. After all, even if your girlfriend turned into a complete monster you just can't help but remember the fun things that you did together before she turned to the Capitalizt Side.

Eventually, after returning back in the USSR (you don't know how lucky you are boy), he had his name changed to a simpler Ivan Ivanovskivich to prevent any further unwanted emigrations and subsequent heartbreaks with those evil capitalists. He then joined the Russian armed forces, not because of any particular love for his Motherland no; California despite its decadence is still a whole lot more lovely than the Ural Mountains, and Stalingrad despite the former Premier's love for it is certainly no match for the charm of the Latin Americas. Ivan, well he joined the army because its pay isn't exactly that bad compared to being a snow plough operator, or snowman censor, or snowpick chemist; and that there is no demand at all in all of USSR for a coffee barista like what Ivan wanted to really be. No, really, all Ivan wanted to be was to be a coffee barista, or a coffee connoisseur, and to be the world's expert on the perfect brew of coffee. Instead the Soviet Union's grim realities forced itself upon his dreams, thus Ivan's becoming an army commander instead of a coffee connoisseur. Still, it wouldn't be so bad in the Soviet Army right?

Upon entering the army did he realize that his comrades aren't saints either; atrocities were very commonplace in the army especially among infantry. The difference between Red and Blue is the banner, but they all commit horrendous things on their own comrades and on their enemies alike. Good thing Ivan is skilled with mechanics; he transferred to the Soviet Union's armored divisions which were well-cared for by the Cherdenko regime, and thus less likely to engage in hazing and brutality and more apt to act like proper gentlemen. And accounting for Ivan's internationalized experiences as a child, he was assigned a post as commander of the Soviet bases in the diplomatic hotspot that is the Philippines, in which he performed his duties to the utmost of his capabilities, even managing to delay the growing American threat in the Philippines when Ackerman joined the war, until the Union could sent reinforcements to force the Americans out of Asia altogether. As well, open trading between the Philippines and a vast number of countries First, Second, Third, or Fourth World alike allowed the Soviet commander to savor various mixes and blends of coffee that land on Philippine ports. It was the good life for him.

Of course, this ended when the Japanese spoiled the party and his command fractured. He was listed as MIA for some time, until the elite armored units under his command grew tired of the racist Italian-born warbird Commander Galloski and tracked (pun unintended) Commander Ivan down, upon which the armored division now commanded once again by Ivan managed to crawl towards their secondary base somewhere near Batangas, a few hundred kilometers or so south of Manila. As a roving band of well-armed and armored mercenaries, still highly disciplined, they were able to maintain unit cohesion all the way to the smoldering remains of the Soviet base in Batangas, about 400 kilometers away from their starting point. Seeing that it was a hopeless case of being stranded; the Soviet units then went hiding in a quiet hamlet drinking fortified beer, merrily. Commander Ivan of course had barako coffee, an exotic powerful drink with a unique taste harvested from coffee beans grown there, which explains why he is stuck in Southern Luzon for quite some time until a bounty from PoopMan came up and the whole armored battalion of semi-mercenaries are willing to accept. Now he commands an elite battalion of the Soviet Army, in conjunction with the Philippine Constabulary, against the common enemy which is the Empire of the Rising Sun. Sure, he is still not a barista, but at least he gets a taste of premium Filipino coffee, while being one of the top commanders of a very powerful force, now well-supplied by Filipino-made ammunition. And all that for the good of Mother Russia, and more importantly, against America, and most importantly, coffee and tanks. Because he is that kind of guy.

Oh, and about his name change? The Philippine Government made a mistake writing his name while Commander Ivan was recuperating in the hospital. The sheer amount of volatiles he has inhaled while trying to blow up the Primary Japanese invasion force has hurt him greatly, and he was in no position to correct his name as bandaged from head to foot.


	27. Story of Girls and Boys

The Filipino-Soviet coalition has swept through Empire-controlled Philippine lands, quickly undoing what efforts the Imperial forces have done for the past months save for the death of the Filipinos' greatest (and so far the only) war philosopher: Turiano Carpio. Imperial losses were up to hundreds of thousands ever since the invasion of this hellhole commenced, including numerous copies of the Empire's finest robotic admiral, and one of the most advanced prototypes of the combined zaibatsus in Japan itself. To be fair though, the prototype is already, in a sense, destroyed even before being even reconstituted in the Philippines.

Worse, the invasion force was running out of land to retreat to, since they are already being hammered down southwards by the coalition they could have prevented had they bought the services of the Soviet mercenaries, down to the redoubt in the Bicol region where local defenses have been shown by experience to be one of the best; it's like being forced between an unstoppable and an immovable. Given the progress of the defenders, within a week the only land the Japanese could pull back to is the narrow strip of land in Quezon province which would make the Filipino encirclement even harder to break out of; it's now like being forced by the unstoppable into an indestructible funnel, where the narrow end leads to an immovable.

At this point, Japanese morale has once again hit rock bottom. And no one knew of the effect, the power of morale, better than the Japanese themselves, whose every operation under their Emperor is directed firstly towards breaking their enemy's will. As an emergency measure, a shipload of sake was requested for the troops, with high priority. The singing of the Imperial March anthem became a twice-a-day activity. Anime manga, and fan fiction have been finally allowed again, which led to these artistic mediums' quick conversion to things too adult to mention in this story rating, which further led to things, politely called "fetishes", which Imperial Philippine Command did not dare know about their subordinates. The strict Japanese traditions of respect has been reduced, with the number of mutual bowing reduced to 5 as maximum, instead of 15 as _minimum_.

Yet still, there is something that these measures have failed to answer, though after ten Imperial Warriors were psychically ripped apart did the Imperial Philippine Command remember. Too late. The Yuriko Omega deployed in the Philippines is acting up, is going on tantrums, is being hormonal, and is destroying the remnants of the Imperial Army, an Army trying its best to hold that strip of land for reinforcements to arrive safely.

"How bad could it be?" asked the ninja commander. His human co-commander stared at the seeming ineptness of his colleague, the very colleague in charge of all infantry forces including Yuriko. The robot admiral, booted from backup, rolled its "eyes". At the window outside they could see their airborne going down and their landborne going up.

"Had that girl been doing that at the gaijin we could have won a long time ago." Outside the troops are being suffocated on air while the rest of his platoon, trying to fight the commando in self-defense, tumbled into the ground breaking their spines and shoulderblades.

"Keep that racket down, can't you see we're trying to think here?" The robot admiral could filter out sound, keeping itself comfortable, while the unremarkable commander remained remarkably calm. Or unremarkably calm, since every other sentient being in the room is as calm as him except for the ninja commander. Outside, stocks of high explosives kept on exploding after Yuriko took down a Chopper VX on a truckload of these.

A few minutes of Yuriko's intense psychic destruction has passed. A few minutes of the Imperial commanders' intense concentration on how to escape the encirclement occurred as well. Somehow, somewhere, the two intense occurrences are going to collide in one massive clash of powers…

A Rocket Angel platoon was sent to paralyze the rogue element inside the Imperial base, but they just kept on being pulled down like flies. In the end, one of these Rocket Angels, flight suit deactivated, thruster wings clipped and severed, tried a mad yet clumsy dash towards the V. I. P. Bunker where her commanders are having a conference. Apparently, Rocket Angel flight suits and their clunky dragonfly wings are not optimized for five-second dashes towards the next building, and so Yuriko was able to catch her…but not quite. Holding on for dear life on one of the iron railings, the Rocket Angel noticed that she was virtually face-to-face with the commanders, with only a large pane of glass separating them. Butting her head against the glass, the conference was rudely disturbed by a young, pretty Rocket Angel, trying hard to resist being lifted up. Her impact-reduction targetting helmet was shattered, and so was the glass. "Well, at least that showed why nanopaddings are necessary in _all_ infantry helmets from now on, admiral."

The Rocket Angel tried hard to bow down while being psychically hung upside down, and then do all the other necessary rituals to respectfully request for permission to speak directly to a commander. However, Yuriko's juggling of enemy infantry meant that the hapless Rocket Angel's rituals are rudely disturbed, and thus by Imperial military custom she should repeat the whole shebang all over again until she performs it right. The commanders know this custom of course, and are thus forced by tradition to wait for her attentively to finish the greeting completely and correctly before they can respond.

Slowly the psionic assaults on her flight suit have taken their toll, and they shattered. Next thing the Rocket Angel knew, she was lifted high into the air and stuck right there, right in the path of incoming Jet Tengus and Chopper VXs. The pilots were all distracted by a fellow Japanese being levitated into their chopper blades and jet intakes, with all the dangers it would represent. With the Rocket Angel used as a distraction, the Yuriko clone was then able to psionically pull down aircraft while they were maneouvering awkwardly.

"This is ridiculous.", said the ninja commander, watching the soldiers under his direct command wary to shoot at the hostaged Rocket Angel, then being flung around by Yuriko, instead of shooting that rogue element in the middle of their encampment. Picking up the Rocket Angel's Paralysis Whip, he then activated his personal S.H.R.I.N. Mirage Tank cloaking device, disguising himself and the DevilCoat he is wearing into an innocuous, inconspicuous tree. That runs. Fleetingly rushing towards the schoolgirl, to close down to Paralysis-Whip range, he readies his shot. Yuriko has only a few microseconds to respond to a "tree" that is going to run over her, and so she in panic Psychokinetically Bursts the "tree". The foliage doesn't shake off.

Commander Ninja (not his real name) activates the Paralysis Whip. It went "Click. Click. Click."

"Stupid thing got blasted by that burst. Looks like I will have to incapacitate the girl with my …giant Beam Naginata?"

The DevilCoat's left foot began to lift off a few feet off the ground. The look on the ninja commander's face would have been very hilarious, had he not been scarred by a massive Super Reactor explosion a few months prior. He then felt falling again; as if he was going to be mercilessly juggled until he faints, like a toy, or that now-unconscious hostaged Rocket Angel. But this time, he doesn't rise up again. Quick to his feet, the ninja commander looks at the weaponized schoolgirl, and notices that she is paralyzed, face in a state of shock. Looking at what saved his life from this being, he looks up to see a standard-issue Rocket Angel, but this particular one was flying together with an Imperial Warrior's arm clasped around her neck.

The ninja commander responded "You went AWOL, and are holding each other! That's against doctrine! Prepare to be court-martialed."

The couple then seemed to smile at him, and then deactivated the Paralysis Whip. Yuriko was then back to lifting up the commander.

"Maybe not!" gasped the ninja commander

Yuriko was then paralyzed again. The couple then flew towards the commander, who is now lying flat on the back of his DevilCoat suit. They then presented a slip of paper stating their identities, the nature of their marital status, and a request for the legalization of their marital status despite edicts promoting the stratification of Japanese society via preventing any interaction between military units of different sexes (which would explain why Rocket Angels are prohibited by doctrine to even touch the ground). The reason for the reconsideration of their case? "True love."

"Signed, Ichiro & Maki. 3"


	28. New Unit: Lamok Airplane

The rogue Yuriko clone, deemed too valuable to be executed, is then kept in a cell calmed down by a number of Paralysis Whips wielded by a bunch of guardsmen. True, in the battlefield these Whips are not that well-regarded because there are a million more ways to kill the enemy instead, but in containment facilities like these the items are very useful. One ought to wonder, had the Japanese Empire exported this technology to correctional facilities worldwide they could have had enough money to fund their military expeditions, to achieve success instead of what they are reaping now; but then all the high-security prisons in the world would not need that much helium for Cryotechnology, which would indirectly lead to greater production of Kirov Airships. That would be devastating to Japan, which when coupled with the obvious stupidity of exporting a very powerful technology like that, meant that Paralysis Whips are limited to Japanese forces.

Led down into a chamber, the Yuriko clone can think, but she can't move. Duh, p-a-r-a-l-y-s-i-s. Then the doctor faces her, readies the syringe, tapping it twice. A strange, violet substance drips slowly from its tip. The doctor moves closer towards her, but she can't respond; all she could do is watch as she lay incapacitated, about to be injected with another cocktail of drugs the chemical reactions she could not comprehend. The cold sensation of rubbing alcohol tingles her right arm slightly, then for a split second she felt the bite of the metal tip. Suddenly her psychic abilities aroused due to the pain, but the effect was not enough to affect her surroundings. It was pain, but not enough to make Yuriko clone do the stuff she is known to do. She then feels, as if a dark veil has been lifted over her eyes. She then looks at the doctor, who surprisingly was a child of the same age as her. She began to wonder for a while what kind of hallucinogen she was injected with.

But the doctor is not a hallucination of a drugged Yuriko clone. He was a real biological teenager just like her, except he is a doctor and she is a commando who has been aging-accelerated for easy deployment to Imperial armies worldwide. In an army with the average age being in the 20's to the 30's, seeing a fellow teenager (at least biologically) felt...good for both of them. And the teenage doctor? He is Dr. Saiko, a child prodigy whom during the peaceful years Dr. Shimada himself has recommended for academic acceleration, producing who may be the youngest researcher-doctor in history. When the war came though, the Imperial Japanese warrior culture meant that the doctor prodigy would be retaught engineering instead, likely to waste his massive brainpower operating a crummy Oil Derrick alone and defenseless out in the middle of the Pacific. Fortunately Dr. Shimada saved Dr. Saiko from this fate, using his influence and the implied threat of unleashing a psionic force from the wrecked Shiro Sanitarium against anyone who says otherwise.

When complaints came in from across the globe considering their Yurikoes going angsty-emo-improperly-working, the sanitarium personnel then had a proper job befitting their skills. They were dispersed worldwide, forcibly if needed, for the maintenance of these clones. And so even the brilliant child prodigy was forced to go to the tropical paradise of the Philippines because the local Yuriko clone just almost destroyed the local Imperial base in one of her teenage tantrums.

Of course, there is a reason why older people are chosen as doctors. No one wants some teen in the middle of the crazy hormonal age to tinker with their body systems and functions. Yuriko clone doesn't mind though, firstly because she is too paralyzed to care, secondly because she is too emo to care, and lastly because in a desert of twenty-somethings it is truly a relief to find an oasis of a fellow teenager in all his glory.

Dr Saiko is only thinking about this Yuriko clone being not a perfect clone no, this clone is an improvement! Well, at least physically, but there must be something in the Philippine sun, or in the local cuisine, or a gene expression change, that made this clone look better than even the original herself. If he could just analyze her cells enough to find out what those "beauty-izing" factors are...

A slight prick with a syringe. The violet liquid then surges through Yuriko's veins, quite visible through her pale arm. Done. That was that, operation over. It was off to bed for everyone save for the paralysis guards. There is no fun though, story-wise, for an eventless night of Yuriko clone and the rest of the characters sleeping while the guards stay awake paralyzing her, so in the spirit of literary coincidences we let the guards doze off and Yuriko wake up...right in the middle of the Philippine-Soviet coalition's spearhead rumbling into the scene, Drakons blazing.

Imperial Chopper-VXs began to pound on the mighty Soviet armor, when they were suddenly blinded by dancing lights in the sky. The Chopper-VXs then began to lose their formation and crash into other. Other choppers then had noticeable Spectrum burns without them even knowing where it came from, which sliced through the rotors and cabins of the aircraft and led to the destruction of these Japanese aircraft. From his personally-modified Apocalypse Tank, Commander Ivan sniped other Chopper-VXs in the confusion with Black Hole shells the Philippine Army has supplied him, the black hole field modifying the flight stability of these airborne foes until they get clumped enough for a direct hit with his 125mm shells. The Rocket Angel battalion that could have saved the Japanese had just been badly thrashed by Yuriko the other night, with the notable implementation of a stripped Rocket Angel as a distraction. Clearly Yuriko is smart even if she is angsty.

The fury of the pounding of Apocalypse Tanks quickly leveled the makeshift Imperial base, and in their haste they left every man to himself either to fight or to regroup somewhere behind the lines. Dr. Saiko the child prodigy doctor woke up, then upon realizing the hellish scenario he has woken up, with Apocalypse tanks rumbling all over his bunker and God-Emperor knows where those Soviets came from. He tried to run away; he's a lover, not a fighter, and most certainly will not die stupidly in some tropical nowhere when he is a genius with decades of productivity in his bright, bright future. And as he is running away, he bumps smack into the dreaded twin heavy calibres. _This is the end_.

So, before we finally kill off the child prodigy doctor, let's first have a nice, close look at the 'dancing lights in the sky' that nullified the Imperial close air support that could have stopped the initial Apocalypse advance.

**In-game Unit Profile:** L-17.2 Lamok

**Designation:** Airborne General Anti-air/Anti-surface/Support  
><strong><strong>Manufacturer: <strong>**Institute of Science and Technology**  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> **Philippines**  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> **Aerodrome**  
><strong>

**Accessories:**  
>» Lycoming engines, uprated<br>» Spectrum cannons, salvaged  
>» Experimental woven bamboo, with veneer<br>» Burst Drone "abdomen"  
>» Bomb rack, with "Firestorm" bomb<br>» Lots of duct tape

**History:**

The aircraft was originally an old artifact from the time when Stalin was still battling against Europe. It was built by the then-called Institute of Science and Technology as a construction material experimental aircraft, to create indigenous aircraft using indigenous construction materials such as plywood and woven bamboo for agricultural and touring purposes. However, the plan was not followed up because national policies favored importing foreign-made aircraft, particularly American ones, rather than to develop locally-made aircraft. In the end the airplane was left languishing and forgotten in some garage in Southern Luzon to rot, alarmingly like many other Filipino-made technological innovations. Such is science and technology in the Philippines, ever since until up to now in our real-world continuum, with no hints of the practice being curbed at all.

When the Imperial Army began the invasion of Southern Luzon though, the few people that knew of the aircraft that exists in their suburban garage managed an epic escape, capping up the old engine with vegetable oil and pushing the plane into the street to use as a runway. Amazingly, the old machine still works, and so the crew took off in their overloaded plane to try to fly back all the way to Manila in what may be considered an endurance flight for a small old airplane like that.

However, they noticed that somehow, the Imperial Army did not spot their tiny plane hovering above them despite the scared-to-death crew looking around for any Jet Tengus or chicken walkers to shoot their puny thing down with them. Even when landing in Manila, ground control did not notice the tiny aircraft in their radar until they had visual contact, and visual contact was established only when ground control noticed something blocking a runway where a Badger Bomber was about to land. Narrowly averting a terrible aviation and diplomatic mishap, the tiny plane was set aside for the Constabulary to investigate.

After all the prior papers concerning the aircraft was unearthed from the archives, the Philippine Constabulary's first conclusion was, like: "It is a very simple thing to make." In an era when all aircraft are made of exotic materials like duralumin, steel and titanium, this aircraft stands out for its choice of material: plywood and bamboo, which makes it ridiculously cheap to make, and light to fly, and thus able to stay aloft longer than their heavier brethren. The wood is also available virtually everywhere in the Philippines, and the odd woven bamboo-plywood construction had another ace up its sleeve: it also is virtually invisible to radar. Its unique colour scheme also makes it virtually invisible both to ground and air observers, and by far its new Lycoming engines makes it much faster and more quiet than its old engine. Indeed, only dogs and bears can naturally hear the humming of the new engines.

But what to do with it? It is a small airplane, incapable of carrying very heavy armaments. It is a nice scouting plane, being invisible and all, but there must be more to it than simply flitting on air with a tiny detector ripped off from Burst Drones. The Apollo fighter's Sol autocannon is too heavy, while a bunch of Danao-45's would have pesky ammunition boxes all over. Bombs could be carried, but firstly bombs slow down the airplane greatly, secondly once its bombs have dropped the airplane would be useless and a waste of the remarkable flight endurance of the aircraft, thirdly the pressing need is a better anti-aircraft weapon than battalions of Constables shooting wildly into the air, and last is that all the 'bombs' the Philippines had then was Molotov cocktails. Light-based armaments seemed the best choice; a crewmate could just open the side door and shoot searing light at enemies without blinding the Lamok's pilot unlike the ill-fated Spectrum Apollo prototype, all without necessitating bulky, massive stores of ammunition. A bunch of Tesla Trooper battery packs could sustain the Spectrum cannon shooting for a hours anyway.

Further modifications included speed brakes, to allow the aircraft to make daring swoops to strafe enemy ground forces. And because duct-taping the woven-bamboo wings seem to work in patching up bullet holes, everyone elected that an extra crewmember be added to duct-tape the whole cramped aircraft for on-air repairs. When the plane was finished, with its ridiculous role as an all-purpose pursuit-reconnaisance-fighter-bomber, that could strafe ground and air units with its hole-in-the-fuselage side-mounted Spectrum cannon, that could repair itself with judicious applications of duct tape, that could remain hidden while detecting stealthed units back, that could drop a giant Molotov cocktail; the Philippine Constabulary thought it was a joke, and then immediately mass-produced the cheaper wooden aircraft rather than replace the costlier foreign-designed steel-and-titanium airplanes they had been using. They needed the air support that badly, and the Lamok seemed to be the better choice.

And for fun, the development crew are trying to mount Tesla weapons on their aircraft, since they too doesn't need ammunition boxes. Good luck with that.

**Game unit:**

Perhaps another one of those odd, potentially imbalanced Filipino units, the Lamok is a quick, lightly armored aircraft, invisible to radar and visual contact until heard by dogs or bears or mechanical dragonflies, or until it fires the nasty beams of light it is armed with, or drops its equally nasty burning bomb. It can also detect stealthed units back, because there's a large supply of damaged Burst Drones all over the battlefield and there surely is no harm in carrying one; it's like having a stealthy anti-stealth unit. Its basic armament, a Spectrum cannon, is able to clip enemy wings by melting them, as well as slag tanks, infantry, and buildings alike when the aircraft strafes the target with a sideshow of psychedelic light. Its special ability is to jettison the heavy Firestorm incendiary bomb which slows the aircraft considerably, but creates a firestorm (obviously) which is effective against buildings, and infantry, and if you try really hard it could burn ground vehicles if they don't get out of the way. Once dropped, the Lamok can always reload its bomb at the Aerodrome. It is virtually a flying Red Alert 3 Allied Mirage tank, that doubles as a Generals MiG fighter-bomber, though this is a coincidence due to the circumstances involving a light and stealthy (because wood is virtually radar-transparent) airplane that needed a weapon that does not need ammunition boxes, and the relative ease and availability of materials in creating incendiary bombs instead of conventional ones.

And for the hell of it, the plane auto-repairs.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Reconnaissance, both ways_ - Originally conceived as a flying recon like the artillery balloons of old times, the aircraft's stealthiness and long flight endurance meant that it could patrol the battlefield for a long time, detecting possible intruders with something they pried off from damaged enemy Burst Drones. As a bonus, at the altitudes where it normally operates high in the sky, visual contact is almost impossible considering the distances involved, and the radar used normally to detect large flying metal things like Kirov airframes or Apollo wings just don't work on wooden or bamboo surfaces; the best that radar operators could make out of the Lamok is simply a pair of flying engines and the Spectrum cannon assembly, and that without factoring in the special veneer that reduces corner reflectors and effectively hides the metal parts of the aircraft with basic anti-radar technologies. However, other Burst Drones could detect the pleas of help from its damaged comrade inside the airplane, and scout animals can hear the whine of the Lycoming engines that would be otherwise inaudible to humans.

_Light, but not both ways_ - Armed primarily with Spectrum cannons, the plane could do something no other fixed-wing aircraft can do in its time: continually strafe enemies without needing to return to base. And unlike the Twinblade, which is best against infantry, or Chopper-VX, which is best against not infantry, the Spectrum cannon has no preferred prey; all enemies are fair game to it. And for its design, the plane is light in weight, but surprisingly tough in terms of armor since it is hard to hit, it being quite small and nimble; and because when bullets and missiles actually hit the projectiles tend to simply pass through the Lamok with minimal internal damage to the airplane.

_Fighter_ - Successfully bearing Spectrum cannons against airborne units is something the Allied forces have been trying for a long time, but the Lamok is the first to do so without blinding the pilot. The Filipinos did it by having an airplane that is so light it's wooden, allotting less space to pesky things like jets and afterburners and more space for cabin that could mount the cannon sideways, as well as a gunner to man the Spectrum cannon instead of making the pilot do all the work. All the flightcrew had to do was to fly the plane around, then pick up the presence of larger aircraft with their decapitated Burst Drone, then do circles firing light against the enemy plane. To further increase the scare factor, enemy pilots are often surprised that the strange bamboo plane can catch up with them and even fly alongside them, Spectrum cannons blazing in an odd form of a speedy flying drive-by, thanks to combined powerful engines, airframe lightness, a well-designed airframe from the heyday of Philippine technology and funding, and a smooth wooden veneer that reduces drag greatly.

_Bomber_ - Its special ability is to carry a big, heavy bomb that slows the airplane considerably. Simply a large Molotov cocktail, except that unlike its handheld counterpart the bomb can do something no one really expected it to do, or what it is now named for: a massive firestorm that can sustain itself by consuming everything in its way, spreading out in the process as well. And like a proper bomber of the old times, the plane has an engineering crew, except he is just one poor chap whose only job is to walk on the wings patching up the plane with"stealthy" duct tape.


	29. Homage to Teenage Thinking

Dr. Saiko was left, alone, facing the paired heavy large-calibres once not thought to be possibly mounted one of the most powerful units in the whole world, and in Red Alert 3 in general. Imperial Army rescuing him now is a joke, now that most of them had retreated, or rather 'tactically regrouped', so hastily that most of them were clad only in their ceremonial underpants. The Soviet Apocalypse Tank stops, tank commander inspecting the odd Japanese kid in front of him. "Shoot to kill."

The tank gunner, grinning with a certain gleam in the eye, had then aimed his dual cannons against the poor lad, but couldn't quite connect because the doctor is squarely in the middle of the twin Drakons and is too low to target. The Drakons couldn't depress sufficiently; how depressing. Dr. Saiko couldn't think clearly at this point either; he was already suffocating and the Apocalypse Tank's Tesla engines still spew out too much emissions despite its main selling point being "able to reduce your carbon footprint by 85%", apparently because the emissions are so noxious. And the word "noxious" means "spewing nitrogen oxides", so the Soviets were able to get away with their stupid carbon emission reduction because their engines spew nitrous oxides instead of carbon oxides, and lots of it. Yet despite all the nitrous, the tanks are still really pathetically slow, ain't it? The world just isn't fair, nor is it getting any healthier.

The cannons remained incapable of depressing towards Dr. Saiko. Sweat began to drip from the doctor, which to him is weird because he could quite clearly remember despite the suffocating atmosphere that he degenerated his sweat glands for his thesis experiment. Anyway, the tank driver then decided that the giant Tesla engine had other better uses than lug around those powerful 125mm cannons and 16 layers of armor around, and decided to drive over that squishy Japanese boy in front of him. From rest, he guns his engine. The big thing rumbles forward, quadruple treads inching closer towards Dr. Saiko. The driver then changes to second gear. Then to third gear. Then to fourth gear. Then to fifth, then the sixth, then the seventh, then the eighth gear. All the while the tank was maintaining good acceleration. The tank now hits ninth gear, closing the distance between its murderous Grinder treads and the poor Japanese boy by about a meter. The Apocalypse tank's laboriously-made transmission, 16 speeds forward and 11 speeds reverse, is as epic as the rest of the tank, and is made specifically because the tank is too heavy for the everyday civilian 5 speed gearbox. This new gearbox now allows the tank to accelerate from nought to sixty in the same time it takes for a Soviet Engineer to destroy the Apocalypse with his pistol, as well as reduces emissions by a whopping 9.6%, with Soviet sales pitches commonly dropping the decimal point "to save on ink...and demonstrate the commitment to the environment of the Soviet Union".

Dr. Saiko has been pinned straight in the middle of the path of the killer Grinder Treads for about ten minutes now, thinking _This is fun!_ The slow asphyxiation has taken its toll on him, or perhaps it must have been his teenage hormones. The point is that he is stuck in his current position, for quite some time, through no fault of him at all; nosiree. Meanwhile the Apocalypse Tank is high up in the air, spinning around. What?

Because it has been very painful to delay the story further, for an excruciating 500 words or so, allow me to just state what has just happened to Dr. Saiko for the past ten minutes in a more professional manner to make things clear. He ran straight into the path of a drugged Yuriko, and just their luck that an Apocalypse Tank plowed through the rubble of the bunker in their general direction, stopping a few meters away from the teenagers. The tank gunner tried to shoot the Japanese couple, but the targets are too close and too low for the Drakon cannons to target with both barrels, so instead the tank driver decides to run over them in a very slow, tiring drive forward. And in the nick of time, Yuriko uses her psionic powers to prevent them from being run over by hundreds of tons of steel, and all the while Dr. Saiko is there in his awkward position, all ten minutes of the ordeal. And he looks tripped-up and happy. And they both seem tripped-up-happy in an impolite, unprofessional manner, except Yuriko has an excuse: she has just been injected with a very powerful antidepressant by Dr. Saiko, and is now having the time of her life. She is experiencing a cacaphony of positive emotions, and sensations, so...yeah, teenage puppy love in a time of war and drugs.

Now for the distraction, in the form of more Apocalypse Tanks rumbling in, firing shells in their general direction. Dr. Saiko then swings Yuriko around, holding and hugging her tightly, less due to romance as is actually for hiding behind her as the Soviets continued their attacks. Yuriko then began psionically juggling the tanks _happily_, while Dr. Saiko shudders in fear behind her for what may happen to the world when he dies now, here in barbaric lands.

"I think I must have lost my man-card."

Dr. Saiko straightens up his dignity.

"As I was saying, I think I must have lost my man_ning_ card for the laboratory psymeter."

With a final psionic push Yuriko does away with the enemy tanks, then hurriedly rushes away from the base, with Dr. Saiko in tow. She profusely thanks the doctor for whatever she was injected with, and that she was so happy, and that she could just not stop talking about life in the military as a weapon, of her life as the only teenager in the army and as a very emotionally altered being at that with all her bad mood and vengeful personality and all, and of her personal taste in uniform fashion, and of her two pet dogs at home, and of how the bunker was oh-so-fugly, and of how she was so happy to be with him; to the point that the doctor has begun wondering if it really was a good idea to use such a massive dose of anti-depressant on Yuriko now that she has become so much more lively than is recommended. And the doctor did really, really think...

"But wait, did she just mention _how she was so happy to be with him_? It must have been stress, or maybe not."

He blushed a bit. She was doing so too, and he knows it based on clinical observation.

As the sun rose, the two had gotten away far enough from the battle to enjoy the sunrise. Together. It was teenage bliss for the two that morning, and all that had happened the previous night they have decided to dispose of as just an awkward introduction. Really, things do happen when two hormonal teens are stuck together in an army group of adults, because it was just that kind of morning, the same morning when classes resumed in Philosophy of War 12 under Turiano Carpio.


	30. Turiano Carpio, Citizen

The professor casually dusts off his table. It's a rather old table, made of narra wood from back in the days when high-quality wood can be bought directly from farmers who saw the hundred-year old trees as obstacles to his farmland. The students notice the slight sheen in his uniform, a slight sheen that indicates how reality itself enjoys puns, and a visual indicator of how 'enlightened' the person is. His Barong Tagalog is uniquely impeccable, and only makes him look more dignified compared to the rabble in Congress and the Senate who wears the same outfit yet looks even more and more crooked and corrupt. Clearly, this man has style, despite all visual cues indicating the sheer normalcy of his outfit.

The professor looks at the class, who is now sitting very attentively out of sheer respect. He introduced himself, he is Professor Turiano Carpio, and then introduced the course. He discussed the basics of military philosophy, and as a review of what the students have learned in Philosophy of War 11 (under a different professor, since Mr. Carpio is not allowed to teach while dead), he then hands out a simple exercise, just to warm up their minds for the frankly exciting concepts of the philosophy of war.

The exercise was to prove that the professor is alive and teaching at this very time and place, despite being killed in action a few months ago. Immediately seventeen cadet officers fainted, while another 16 walked out of the room and decided to drop this (thankfully optional) course. The remaining few were rendered catatonic when they began to think of how their professor did that, and of all the complications that his proof could mean. The professor then sighed in a very respectable manner; he has been putting the proof in the preface of his _On the Philosophy of War_ ever since the 14th edition and so far every one else was stumped on how he proved himself to be alive at that very date and place, despite death. Nonetheless, his temporary death does have a lot of bureaucratic paperwork to be sorted out, and despite Turiano Carpio knowing much of the horrendous Philippine bureaucratic system he is still not above the law of the Republic of the Philippines.

Since all of his students are now rendered incapable of continuing the lecture, the philosopher of war then sets off to the National Statistics Office. He has already done the necessary papers to undo his death certificate while the Philippine Constabulary has reinstated him back with full benefits as a Philosopher of War of the Philippine Constabulary, and the only reason why he would like to get the rest of his records straight is so that he can pay taxes again like a proper citizen of the nation of the Philippines, due to the taxes being needed by the country to arm its brave constabulary against a complete and proper armed force far advanced than the Philippine Constabulary is. However, the statistics office does have this certain air of bureaucracy which, if not downright corrupt, is very painfully slow. A long queue was in front of Turiano Carpio, reaching up to the outside of the government complex. People of all sorts were in the line, most trying to read the yellowing newspapers the office has thoughtfully provided while a handful of tellers cater to the needs of the Filipino citizenry.

"Wait, isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"Who?"

"That guy, in the burial suit with the odd patches and all. That guy in the barong."

"Just because a guy walks in wearing a barong doesn't mean he's going to get buried Tomas. Maybe he's a congressman, but you're right...congressman never have to wait long lines like these like the rest of the common citizenry. They just chit-chat with the director and off they go."

"No, I mean, this newspaper said he was dead, and that he is I think the minister for war philosophy or something..."

"But that newspaper is old! Maybe he did not stay dead for..._long_?"

It is not everyday that people get face to face with a once-dead guy, and so the superstitious folks of the Philippines hurriedly scrambled to leave, shortening the line considerably. Of course, there are always those people that won't leave the line even if the Japanese themselves showed up, so there still is a line. But it is much shorter now.

Of course, repealing all things concerned with death would prove difficult legally, especially if the person himself admits that he were dead, then failed at death at some point after being dead. Compounding the fact that what brought him 'back to life' is a matter of philosophy far advanced compared to what most people would normally encounter, and that led to the statistics office closing early just to try to comprehend how Mr. Carpio became alive, and thus eligible again for all the benefits and responsibilities of a living Filipino citizen. Another complication is that the Republic of the Philippines does not recognize Heaven, Hell, Sheol, or any of the monarchies of the afterlife as a nationstate, and thus could not simply waive Mr. Carpio's demise as a simple vacation to some other country. In the end, they just listed Mr. Carpio as a 'suspended' being for the duration of his 'death', and all responsibilities and benefits and such are to be adjusted according to various laws. Or rather, Mr. Carpio, by being 'suspended', has just brought upon himself required weekly summons to the courts for an explanation of his position in the circumstances, with possible adjustments in the law concerning him. To facilitate the easy and proper ongoing of the procedures, the philosopher is thus requested to not get himself suspended from living again for the duration of the cases, which is predicted to take at the very least 25 years, unless certain circumstances necessitating a self-induced fatality would occur.

In short, by dying and subsequently philosophically proving himself back to life, Turiano Carpio has just complicated his status as a citizen of the Philippines, and is thus requested to as much as possible refrain from dying again, even if he proves himself back to life again.

Legality in the face of advanced philosophy indeed. Not like it could affect the Philippine-Soviet encirclement of Imperial forces in the province of Quezon, right?


	31. New Unit: Tirradores dela Muerte

Yuriko clone is enjoying the Philippines very much, ladidadida. She finally has someone her age whom she can talk and relate to, the flowers are exotic and beautiful, her fellow teenager is a rather approachable boy, the sunshine is much warmer than any of the home islands of Japan, and that she is still high on a greatly increased dose of drugged paradise.

Dr. Saiko simply smiles at the girl while scribbling furiously on the notebook concerning the effects of the drug, or while drawing the Yuriko clone the way he plans to augment her physically. Either of the two; he is after all a research doctor and a teenager at the same time, and both things are respectively done by such people. He just can't help but be curious though; what is Yuriko doing playing with the soil like a kid? Yuriko then motioned the doctor to come over to her and her weird loamcastle. The mound of soil was in a bare, vague humanoid form. Yuriko then focused hard, very hard, on the formless soil below her, which slowly formed into a vaguely female humanoid body at first, then began to detail itself slowly into an anatomically-correct facsimile of the Yuriko clone herself. Dr. Saiko himself is astounded by the Yuriko clone's fine-tuning of her psionic abilities, far better than the original Yuriko Omega's psi-blasts and psi-lifting. It's a sort of psionic dexterity he has never seen before, instead he is accustomed to brute psychic strength exhibited by her...predecessors.

Only, Dr. Saiko had to ask. "Impressive. But why not in regulation uniform?"

Yuriko and her facsimile winked at him knowingly. "I can't. Pleating is too hard." Dr. Saiko knew what this means; he has studied psychology and could quite easily read both Yuriko's actions, and based on his personal experiences he deduced that the drugs are doing some fun stuff to her (or is it their?) mind since the original Yuriko Omega would never do any of that. No creative mental constructs, no clothes like that, not even a wink to raise confidence in his manhood. The original could not even be successfully wooed; and believe him he tried! And now this imperfect clone of hers, she looks better, she could create an army of herself, and best of all she has a liking for him.

Regaining his professional, clinical posture, Dr. Saiko straightened up his tie. "This is most likely a proprioceptive-interoceptive input projected on a mound of earth, forming some sort of a psychically-controlled soil puppet which you, Yuriko, seems to be able to animate..."

He then continued in his mind "...based on how this once-soil is now being quite uncomfortably close to me. Nice way of displaying affection by proxy, Yuriko clone."

And then added, vocally, "I just had to cite one of the more popular of the primitive texts lying around for its irony. '...for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art...' Lol."

Meanwhile, a pair of rather large kinetic penetrators are heading towards the group's general direction.

A few hundred kilometers or so, two men were about to quarrel.

"AAAAAARGH, WHY DID YOU DO THAT?"

"I tapped your shoulder to tell you that I found the creek where the Rocket Angels bathe. Why the anger?"

"I HAD A PERFECT AIM AT THE COMMANDO! *whimper* Now the chance is lost!"

They are two snipers, one holding a ridiculously large double-barreled sniper gun, the other holding field lens with bits and pieces of Burst Drone wires and metal sticking out. However, they are both standing up, which is a weird posture for snipers. They watched as the two enormous rounds from the sniper gun expanded hideously large just a meter off from the target commando, before imploding within its hollow core. The boy was hit by the rapid expansion of the round, and lay superficially wounded on the ground, while the girls had nary with a scratch. One of the girls was screaming, raging, and being panicky, while the other was picking up the injured boy by her mind. The guy with the field lens looked as his teammate, who began reloading his ridiculous weapon. In two seconds he was aiming at on of the commando again, specifically the one standing up smashing together random things with her mind.

"Tem-tem, we have to go."

"But I just had a good aim!"

"Whatever. Kill another day; it's not like we're going to run out of targets before we run out of bullets. Let's go home."

"No sense wasting a good aim. I'll just shoot the breeze behind the girl."

In a few seconds, Dr. Saiko is startled when the Yuriko clone's facsimile shattered bloodlessly. "So, Yuriko, you did not form her visceral organs? She must be formed largely by proprioception then, and clothed by your imagination."

Yuriko glanced at her destroyed creation, shrugged, and then formed three more of her puppets. She then continued their evacuation of the site, while her three golems now channeling the psionic fury of their creator, roamed the field in search of the assassins who dared shoot at them.

The assassins saw the three soil Yurikoes coming at them at full levitating speed. "Crud, they're coming at us!"

Artemio has just reloaded his gun, but his shot missed. Procopio then readied his own issued double-barreled sniper gun and himself took a shot at the soil Yurikoes. His rounds penetrated the first, instantly expanding then and there. The soil Yuriko's torso violently swelled as the round grew to its greatest size, before collapsing within itself into millions of deS.H.R.I.N.K.-ed tungstenous alloy.

Artemio then shot the other soil Yuriko, hitting the leg and causing the soil Yuriko to stumble before fragmenting upon hitting the ground.

Now there was only one soil Yuriko, but this time the snipers were unlucky. A flock of birds flew into the path of Procopio's rounds; the flock was suddenly downed without knowing what hit it. Artemio, or Tem-tem's, shot was intercepted by a freak migration of flying fish from pond to pond. The migratory flying fish did not make it back to the pond. While reloading, the last soil Yuriko caught up with them snipers, lifting Procopio half a meter above the ground just when he has loaded a barrel. Artemio then shot both his rounds at Yuriko point-blank, who then dropped Procopio and began ripping Artemio apart instead. Needless to say, Artemio missed. On hitting the ground, Procopio did not bother loading the other barrel and did a quick shot at the raging psychic in their midst, blasting the soil Yuriko's head into bits and pieces of loamy earth.

"Glad we got out of that situation." Procopio said, shooting himself and his buddy with a syringe of medicine.

Looking from his personal field lens, Artemio replied "Don't push your luck; let's get out of here. Psychic's just made a horde of herself."

**In-game Unit Profile:** Tirradores dela Muerte

**Designation:** Ranged Eliminator/ Medic  
><strong>Training Headquarters:<strong> Scattered  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Philippine Academy  
><strong>Creed:<strong> If the shot lands, of course.

**Accessories:**  
>» 'Voronita' double-barreled sniper gun<br>» 'Kalakihan' special S.H.R.I.N.K.-ed armor-piercing rounds  
>» Scope 1-200x(variable), with IFF, bullet drop and earth curvature compensator (actually a reprogrammed Burst Drone belly)<br>» Nanite Syringe bullets  
>» Carrots, for night operations<p>

**History:**

The original Tirradores dela Muerte is a bunch of Filipinos sharpshooters whose aiming is better than their oppponents: the turn-of-the-1900's U.S. Army, in part because of their superior skill compared to the average American infantryman, another is that the Filipinos took their guns from the Spanish armories, that in turn was filled with imported German-made Mausers which were better than the American Krag-Jørgensens back then. Despite their skills in shooting, the original Tirradores dela Muerte were defeated with the rest of the First Philippine Republic because there are other factors in war, like logistics and political stability and an officer corps that don't kill each other.

Fast forward to present day, there is a dire need for special infantry. The best marksmen among the Constables are set aside for training to use the new Voronita Sniper Gun, which is made of two Vorona Steelshots welded together, with two more Voronas adapted as recoil compensators, to create just one double-barreled gun of astounding range and bullet velocity, and to make use of the Soviet Assistance Program - Flak Trooper Kits which have been scavenged of their Magnetic Mines. The sights are the best too: an advanced Japanese interface pried from a dissected Burst Drone, able to detect stealthed units a long, long distance with the too-optimistic assumption that all shots would hit at such a long distance. But these Voronitas are not chambered with any round, but with special bed-sized rounds made to pierce even the toughest of armors (for testing, they used an Apocalypse tank), S.H.R.I.N.K.-ed to fit into the Voronita's barrels. The concept was simple: a giant round shrunk to man-portable size, which upon destruction of its penetrative tip would then violently expand the whole bullet within the target unstoppably up to the size of a modest two-storey house in a very exothermic process (about 1,100 megacalories released), until it collapses within itself, but not without causing excruciating pain and burns to the target. These special rounds can punch a hole into an Apocalypse tank as big as, well, an Apocalypse tank, and so far anything that it has managed to penetrate has been written off, from dogs to Jet Tengus to Naginata Cruisers to Construction Yards. However, awesome as this round can be, it could only kill if it hits the target, and given the rather rushed development of the Tirradores dela Muerte program, not everyone can land a shot consistently at post-Shogun Battleship ranges. Estimates hover at about 25% hit rate at 20 km (or any distance, it seems) for fresh Tirradores, with a 25% increment in hit rate per promotion up to a sure hit for elite Tirradores. With this devastating bullet, excellent gun, and sheer skill of this elite cadre of sharpshooters, the Tirradores dela Muerte can truly claim to be their namesake 'Shooters of Death', able to destroy any ship, plane, tank, or person in one shot. If the shot lands, of course.

At this point though, the Japanese under Dr. Saiko have developed a method of delivering healing from extreme ranges with a "Nanite Syringe" bullet. Of course, the Filipinos storming his laboratory a few chapters back may have something to do with the Japanese losing this technology, and it was fortuitous timing for the Filipinos that the crucial number-scrunching were finished at the very moment that the base has been captured; the technology, fresh off the mainframe, went straight into the hands of the Filipinos. The result was these rounds, filled with nanites that are able to heal any person from the brink of death, or repair any vehicle from the brink of destruction, that came in the form of a rather large bullet for long-range healing or repairs. Since all the good marksmen were taken into the Tirradores dela Muerte program however, the snipers are then laden with the extra task of dispensing these fragile Nanite Syringe bullets, to which the Tirradores dela Muerte had to be extra careful in reloading. It's a grueling task hitting foes and friends alike, the former with a growing bullet, the latter with a panaceic bullet that is so difficult to chamber that reloading is pathetically slow, but that is the Tirradores dela Muerte, the Shooters of Death (to deliver death), and the Shooters of Death (to kill death). If both the shots land, of course.

**Game unit:**

A man, with extreme sight range (extending into the stealth-detection-able range) and extreme range, with an extremely (read: one-hit kill) powerful attack effective against people, aircraft, and surface vehicles of every kind; he is another insanely powerful Filipino unit that has to be insanely powerful, if to stem the oncoming tsunami of Japanese invaders. If anything is stopping the Philippine Constabulary from fielding these troops _en masse_ though, it is the fact that the reload times are fast for the Filipino-American War but slow for the War of the Three Powers, and that even with the best snipers and these very expensive rounds they can still miss. Except for the elite Tirradores dela Muerte though, they never miss except for literary reasons.

Their secondary attack is also an extreme-range extremely (read: one-hit heal) rejuvenative Nanite Syringe round that must be reloaded slowly, but sends a swarm-of-repair-nanites-in-a-syringe to a target, which can heal Lamok aircraft, Apocalypse tanks, Limahong-class ships, or everyday Constables fully. Ironically, out of the fear of death, or sheer practicality, the Tirradores would stab themselves with these Nanite Syringe bullets before a battle so that they could enjoy its restorative abilities, even if the effect has weakened over time. This had the side effect though of them not noticing critical injuries in the heat of battle, which explains why they don't stab themselves with the Nanite Syringe just before dying. They just shoot allies and enemies while under fire in the rush of adrenalin and nanites until they are surprised that they themselves are dead.

**Notes From the Field:**

_True Seeing_ - Peering into the sophisticated electronics of a reprogrammed Burst Drone adapted into a sniper scope, the Tirradores dela Muerte could see stealthed units from far away, and their Voronita's chambering high-velocity rounds allows them to engage these targets also from far away. In fact, the Tirradores dela Muerte can engage their foes from so far away that they rely on bullet drop to hit their targets from around the Earth's curvature, below the horizon.

_Power Word, Kill_ - The very reason why this unit is not entering any mod without serious nerfing, the Kalakihan round is a Proudly Philippine creation (it had the "Proudly Philippine" seal on each box of bullets) that relies on some quirks with the S.H.R.I.N.K. beam as its primary concept. Upon hitting its target, the rather large round would penetrate and de-S.H.R.I.N.K. inside the target, and the potential size it had lost as a 'wee little arm-sized round' would be very quickly regained in such a way that it would grow as big as a house, destroying anything that the round has pierced be it hull, fuselage, or skull, for massive damage. Then the round would collapse back into itself, leaving a house-sized hole on a Giga Fortress, or a King Oni, or some hapless Imperial Warrior's face.

_Power Word, Heal_ - The Nanite Syringe bullet serves as a lesson why advanced prototype research should not be done in un-assimilated territories. The bullet, developed by Dr. Saiko's team in the Philippines, was taken by the Filipinos even while the Japanese were still working on it. The next thing Dr. Saiko saw of his invention was when he saw whole Filipino mechanized divisions repairing back to full health instantly right in the middle of battle. The only thing that kept the Imperial Invasion Force existent that day was the dismal aim of the Tirradores dela Muerte, coupled with the reduced speed by which these nanites can be dispensed relative to the Kalakihan rounds.

_Spell Failure_ - These Tirradores dela Muerte are still not used with this bulky new weapon, and so they can miss. Indeed, for fresh Tirradores dela Muerte, only 25% of shots hit, then 50% for one-chevroned guys, 75% for two-chevroned guys, until finally a sure shot for the elite snipers. But even they had to undergo first the embarrassment of missing a whole Shogun Battleship from beyond the ship's firing range before reaching Elite status.


	32. Fun Fiction Service

Sometimes in the process of mass-production, there tends to be errors. Ask the conscript whose ADK-45 jammed in the heat of battle (or rather not. He's promoted to major, and prefers to not talk about that pants-wetting moment of his life.) Ask the Artemis Bomber pilot whose ejection seat and payload drop buttons are mixed up (or rather, not. He could not speak anyway, for he's dead.) Ask the designer of the Tsunami Tank, or rather not; his tank design is the epitome of divinely-inspired near-perfection of Japanese engineering: so quiet, light, and efficient that its din barely registers compared to that of the lesser MBT's of his contemporaries, especially the creaky, noisy Hammer tanks.

Indeed, Japanese-made everythings are highly valued around the world for the sheer quality of their creations, from expertly-formed Beam Katanas that are being used by Peacekeepers all over the world to carve steak exquisitely, to the captured Kinetic Carbines that equips only the elite Constables (leaving their less-skilled comrades to use the cheap Philippine-made knockoff of a Kinetic Carbine, called the Danao 45).

However, this drive for perfection does tend to have a problem when met with the brutalities of war. The Soviet Union's rugged machines, while quite crudely-made, do tend to take a lot of punishment in real battle before breaking down, because their tolerances are made larger to account for the less-optimal conditions that occur in battle. The Allies' armaments tend to have better build qualities compared to their Communist contemporaries, but can still take a beating in a hostile environment. However, Japanese engineering requires very little tolerances and very painstaking meticulousness in production, only to be disrupted totally at first contact with a hostile force. One such example is the Wave-Force Artillery: mere sandstorms render these machines incapable of firing due to the systems getting mucked up, while the Allied counterpart would only suffer reduced range due to sand interference on their laser scanners, while the Soviets would gleefully launch their V4's _anytime_ possible.

Another example of fine Japanese technology destroyed by the horrors of war is the Yuriko clone deployed in the Philippines. True, her cloning is truly of Japanese quality: very well-made, and not a Filipino slug even hit her, but her breakdown is caused by a drop in morale and thus destabilization of her emotions, which was greatly upset by continuous defeat against a barbaric race called Filipinos, who are too stupid to even eat raw fish. The upturning of her indoctrination and belief in the inevitability of the Japanese world domination plans (as guaranteed 100% by the divine emperor himself!) made the Yuriko clone snap, leading to her rampage in the Imperial base with great loss of Japanese life and equipment as well as a special importation of Dr. Saiko himself from the Sanitarium. Dr. Saiko, being a teenage doctor of careless curiosity himself, then experimented with the Yuriko clone resulting in the Yuriko clone's creation of her 'soil Yurikos' (as a convenient placeholder until I could think of a better nickname for them), who are just animated soil made in the image and likeness of this altered Yuriko clone, and is able to transmit her psionic energies as well. It is a very powerful talent indeed; the Philippine Yuriko clone's 'soil Yurikos' represent an unlikely triumph of Japanese anthro-engineering in the face of combat conditions and careless teenage curiosity.

Now, the Japanese have got better. Yuriko clone has streamlined her operations, deleting pesky things like textiles from her soil Yurikoes (forming cloth from soil is too brainpower-intensive), instead relying on subconscious proprioception to form only the bodies of her soil Yurikoes. The soil Yurikoes have instead been outfitted with damaged Imperial Warrior armor instead, cut into smaller pieces to equip the whole Yuriko force. As a result, more soil Yurikoes have been produced as vanguard for the Japanese retreat, though these Yurikoes have shed of their schoolgirl armor (which frankly are negligible, both in its role in protecting Yuriko from physical harm, and protecting Yuriko's dignity from...psychological harm?) in favor of proper battlefield armor pieces, albeit the covered body surface area being insignificant compared to the exposed areas. In addition, the Japanese 2nd Invasion Force which has wreaked much havoc on the undersupplied Visayan group of islands, has diverted some of its men and equipment in the defense of the only land-based Japanese presence in Luzon. A Surface Action Group was assigned along the shore as well to provide bombardment. Secret Imperial deployments are constructed in the waters all around the Philippine islands as well; the purposes of which would not yet be revealed until the next few chapters or so (hint: it is the Imperial Communication Jammer Array System, used to cut radio, underwater cable internet, and all other modern means of long-range communication except for smoke signals and flares).

But the peak of the plan is the deployment of a makeshift Psionic Decimator. True, the price tag of the machine is steep, but since Yuriko clone offered her psionic effigies as the 'Yuriko clones' instead of actually importing failed clones from the Japanese High Command, the construction of such a doomsday device is now feasible in the Philippines despite the Imperial Army's crappy situation. Yuriko clone's army of psionically-empowered soil has been working on it, with the help of Engineers clearly distracted by platoons of pretty psy-chic polyplets in skimped-on armor.

Meanwhile, the Philippine advance has been slow, with much-needed repairs ongoing for the majority of the force after their last attack on the Japanese. Only teams of Tirradores dela Muerte are sent out to spot for hostile forces, and so far they are reporting a greater frequency of Yuriko spottings. None of the Philippine forces noticed the rapid entrenchment of the Japanese forces just a few hundred kilometers south of Manila, and a hundred or so kilometers north of General Ayara's 'anvil' forces. The President of the Republic of the Philippines has opened an audience with the new American president, offering condolences for the forces killed by ex-president Ackerman's reckless stunt as well as talks for lend-lease programs to the Philippines, citing recent successes denoting that the defense of the Philippines is going on strong, but may not hold out against the visibly superior Japanese forces without crucial outside support.

Little did the Philippine president know, the American president has just been alt-tabbing her to speak to the rest of his staff concerning the consolidation of his power as the President of the United States of America. The US president did not even notice the loss of communication with the Philippine president, who is now cursing the crappy internet connection for cutting the critical request communication with the Allies. She personally doesn't like to bargain with Premier Cherdenko though, amidst his constant ranting concerning the loss of the Soviet 2ya Tankovaya Diviziya under Commander Ivan Ivanovskivich, as well as the incident about the prohibited hacking of a Soviet Magnetic Satellite after the Guardia Negra used the Soviet military asset illegally against the Emperor's Blessing.


	33. The Quick Next Chapter

Airman Reynaldo was on a scouting mission aboard his Lamok. He is a brigadier general in the Air Unit of the Philippine Constabulary, and while in other world powers a brigadier general (or a corresponding rank thereof) would be in command of whole squadrons, the Constabulary does not have sufficient aircraft so the top brass would have to fly the newly-developed Lamok themselves, with Majors or Captains normally being assigned with the crucial third-guy duct-taping roles.

"We have contact. It seems to be...some sort of a Psionic Decimator." BGen Reynaldo knows what a Psionic Decimator is, having been one of the inspectors of the captured Imperial technology back when the prototype Martel tanks were deployed in a raid during Chapter 10. He does not yet have the technical specifics concerning the odd structure, but he is pretty sure that what he is seeing is a Psionic Decimator. The pods may have something to do with its ease of identification. However, this is the first time that the brigadier general has seen a half-built Psionic Decimator, with its various parts being directed and redirected around by 80 unarmored soil-Yurikoes who actually have no idea how to build the thing; their scant armor pieces being redistributed to the soil-Yurikoes who are actually assigned to scout and fight any hostile presence. The Imperial Engineers assisting the bevy of ladies are less than useful as well, too busy ogling at female anatomy while trying to look concentrated on the actual blueprints of the Decimator.

"Brigadier General Reynaldo and aircrew returning to base. And no, ground control, we will not take your orders to engage the enemy due to the sheer number of anti-avionics psionics, and because I OUTRANK YOU."

Later that evening, yet another snap meeting was held concerning the existence of an Imperial Ultimate Weapon within the borders, and within striking range of the capital city of Manila. Based on the unconventional construction of the doomsday device, the Philippine top brass speculates that multiple such devices can be built, which could completely devastate Manila once activated. That, coupled with the incapability to request for outside aid due to a mysterious loss in communication with the outside world, made that session a tough one.

Fortunately for the Filipinos though, the Psionic Decimator is yet unfinished, and little do the Filipinos know that the likelihood of a second Psionic Decimator being built is slim, with the Yuriko clone being barely able to operate all of her soil-Yurikoes or the Psionic Decimator alone without assistance from Dr. Saiko and his icky violet drugs. As for Dr. Saiko, he would have slight problems preparing or administering the drugs since he is recuperating from a sniper's attempt on his life. Yet still nonetheless, Yuriko clone knows that as long as she is happy she can work the Psionic Decimator **or** the soil-Yurikoes. As long as she is giddy-happy though, because once the drugs wear off the soil-Yurikoes would revert to loam and the Psionic Decimator would not have a psionic battey.

To counter the threat of such a machine, the Filipinos have decided to develop their own Ultimate Weapon, if to shut down all the Instant Generators scattered throughout the Imperial base close to the makeshift Decimator. Besides the basic requirements of a Philippine-wide range, large area-of-effect, and massive damage, the Philippine Ultimate Weapon also had the odd requirement of being unique compared to Allied, Soviet, and Imperial designs, so as to raise the morale of the Filipino people, as well as to boost Philippine arms tourism...when the war is over, and as a technology demonstrator to support the Philippine arms industry...when the war is over as well.

In a few days, the top Filipino scientists have proposed a "very unique, very simple kinetic bombardment system (KBS)". They were applauded by the top brass for the speed of their conception of a truly Filipino Ultimate Weapon. "However, the delivery system would be a bit complicated: the power from a Psionic Decimator would be used to lift the Tungsten Rod Rockets (TRR) up to beyond the effective range of multiple Yurikoes lifting up the rods. From that point, the Chronosphere would then transfer the TRR to the Terminal Velocity Point (TVP) of the Earth's gravitational pull; the use of the Psionic Decimator is for a shorter distance for the TRR to chrono, because to chrono the TRR's all the way up to the TVP Master Chronospheres would have to be used, and MC technology is not part of the bargain the Republic of the Philippine has struck with the Allies." The top brass was then slightly confused and greatly annoyed by this, but the scientists continued.

"From above, the TRR would be turned on. It would be a pushed by Vacuum Imploder rocket powered by a Proton Collider, while at the tip of the TRR the Vacuum Imploder warhead would be activated to create a vacuum which would pull the TRR forward; the vacuum tethered by an Iron Curtained stick to the TRR assembly so as to always be positioned forward of the the TRR, to maintain the downwards pull of the vacuum. The rest of the TRR would then be protected by a Nanoswarm to prevent premature disintegration of the TRR assembly. Upon reaching close to the target, the vacuum would then be too unstable to exist, and then simply disappear. The rocket assembly would also fracture away as the Nanoswarm has been used up in the re-entry, leaving a bare tungsten rod falling down at _past_ terminal velocity to hit the target with a force comparable to 22 kilograms of Uranium-235 undergoing fission, theoretically of course."

"Doctor, did you just compare the theoretical yield of your KBS-TRR system with the theoretical yield of a purely-theoretical atomic event?"

"General, atomic fission is not purely theoretical. Such an event has been demonstrated by Cockcroft and Walton in 1932, but Einstein's sudden disappearance a few years prior has scared away all the other physicists due to the threat of German National Socialists eliminating esteemed non-Aryan scientists, and thus their discovery remained a curiosity. But I personally believe that, based on Einstein's 1905 mass-equivalence equation, such an event could expel a lot of energy; essentially a bomb."

"Doctor, could you create that...Einsteinian bomb instead?"

"Not yet. The development of such would require about ten years and..."

"Then get out of this room."

The scientists were then ushered out of the room by Constables. The council then decided to call the Philosopher of War for insights concerning the wisdom of actually developing an Ultimate Weapon in the first place.


	34. The Slow Next Chapter

"Warning. Psionic Decimator detected."

"This is ground control. Brigadirr General Reynaldo, how many times do we have to tell you to not carry the good lieutenant around in your aircraft? Who knows what controversy..."

"This is Brigadyer-Genaral Reynaldo speaking to ground control. How many times do I have to remind you that I OUTRANK YOU!"

"Brigadirr General Reynaldo, this is General Puno of the Philippine Constabulary's Central. What were you saying again?"

"Sir..."

"Brigadirr General, this is the air arm of the Constabulary, not the military arm of the Mile High Club."

"Sir, with all due respect sir, but we were not engaging in mid-air in-mission *scuffle* *scuffle* Battle Control Terminated."

General Puno now looks at the scientists, whose plans of creating the prototype anti-superweapon superweapon seems to be having a lot of problems. He then looks at the computer guy near him. His screen displayed various spreadsheets accounting the Philippine Constabulary positions, like a hard-working Filipino desk duty soldier should. That could only mean that...nope, still no Facebook, still no internet connection with the outside. There's no way those scientists would be able to build their superweapon on time now that there is no way there are no seeders. The loss of communication with the outside is very suspicious indeed. The general then makes his move...

"This is Commander Mabini to the 15th Imperial Japanese Army. Lay down your arms, deactivate your doomsday device, and surrender."

"1010. Come and get it. 1011."

"Challenge accepted."

The field commander has just survived an assault on his own house, and now he's back at the battlefield leading an army again. True, fighting Japan and polio at the same time could be very difficult, but he is Commander Mabini. He's good. In fact, he's so good that he decided to put his command tank right at the vanguard, because that's how he rolls.

Oh had he known...

"Commander Mabini's force consisted of about 300 Martels in various states of disrepair, which is possibly the largest feasible force that the whole of the Philippines could produce. His armored spearhead is reinforced by thousands of Constables, Bear Cavaliers, auxiliaries, and a handful of Tirradores dela Muerte. The Soviet forces under Commander Ivan refused to move forward, literally: their Apocalypse Tanks had to stop for crucial Tesla engine overhauls and vital transmission teething maintenance and all those technical stuff. And the time was 1000H."

"Commander Mabini checked his watch. He then glanced at a side. At his left side were a bunch of Constables attached to his tank via rappelling gear. Two other Martels were pushing forward, while six Bear Cavaliers went forward as forward scouts, the Cavaliers' Danao 45's sweeping all over. For a glance to bring in so much information is a gift he gave himself after completing Field Command Training. Commander Mabini then did a quick calculation, and estimated that hostilities would begin, based on their pace of advance, by the next day. Morning."

"Glancing at his right, he could see another bunch of Constables, harnessed to his tank as well. His two flanking tanks were spinning in mid-air, while his Bear Cavaliers shooting at six poorly-outfitted Yuriko Omegas."

"At his front side the cavaliers and tanks began to engage the targets to his right. At this rate the advance would be delayed by...somebody's attacking MY FORCES!"

The constable beside him looked backwards. "Narrating the story again, sir?"

The field commander then replied. "Shut up and keep shooting, soldier."

Some distance ahead, Yuriko clone lies bedridden, focusing on her golems. The Imperial commanders watched her wince to every bullet and rocket hitting her soil-Yurikoes while Dr. Saiko tries to soothe her with his comforting touch, and a massive dose of antidepressants mixed into her performance-enhancing IV-drips.

Finally, the unremarkable Imperial commander snaps. "Doctor, can't you see she's in great pain? She's just a girl!"

The other commanders just looked at him blankly. Admiral 898 couldn't process emotions, while Commander Ninja (not his real name) is secretly relishing, savoring every moment that this insolent girl is in pain as punishment for attacking him personally.

The doctor replied, clinically, "How else could she alone power the Psionic Decimator all by herself then, officer? She needs the raw emotions to serve as catalyst for her wonderful mind."

The commanders then turn back. "I think I just saw an evil gleam in his eye. We couldn't just let him experiment on her like that, right?" the unremarkable commander whispered.

"Getting attached to the girl, commander? Finally found someone to love, hmm?"

"No, Commander Ninja, it's just that, err...he might break her. She's a highly valuable military asset, and given our position we could not afford to lose her."

"1010. The commander is right. Partially. However her value as a military asset is offset by the fact that she tends to destroy hundreds of times' her worth in other military assets. I say let him have his way with her. Thus by votation she stays there with him. 1011."

Meanwhile, Commander Mabini's forces are being decimated themselves. The Constables harnessed to the tanks severed their cables as quickly as they can; those who were too slow to chop off their rappelling harnesses were lifted up higher, Yuriko masterfully crushing the trapped troops against the Martel's spaced armor with her dexterous mind. Commander Mabini himself jumped tank when it began to lift, when he realized that he did not carry a firearm. "Not again."

But he had no choice; might as well kill something before dying, right? Whipping out his trusty balisong, he then banzai-charged the soil-Yuriko nearest to him. With a slight thrust, then a sudden jerk of his blade, Officer Mabini disemboweled the soil-Yuriko, whose armor was too high up and too low down defending her decency to protect her viscera instead. The surge of adrenalin blocked his higher cognitive processes, though he did notice that there is no blood splashing on his uniform when he did that unprofessional, jagged slice. Yuriko clone felt the excruciating pain of having her soil-Yuriko's belly being sliced open, and immediately, metaconsciously blocked out that soil-Yuriko from her mind as the soil-Yuriko fell back to dust and shards of body armor. Having 'killed' that soil-Yuriko, the officer then jumped towards the next soil-Yuriko, but just at the moment that he was about to crack her skull open, she psionically lifted her up, blood beginning to flow from the small piercing wound on her forehead. And then she began to crush him with a vengeance. Floating helplessly, Officer Mabini thought "This is the end."

Then, 300 meters away, a Lamok dropped an incendiary bomb on a cluster of soil-Yurikoes. The pilot has just barely managed to make it as a Tirradores shot the soil-Yuriko holding the aircraft in mid-air at the exact moment. "This is Brigadyer-Genaral Reynaldo. I WILL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" As the soil-Yurikoes began to spontaneously combust themselves from the ambient heat of a burning exploding bomb, the aforementioned Tirradores was caught in the explosion, his back being blistered with burns. "Don't worry Tem, I got your back!" Procopio exclaimed while shooting his buddy Artemio with a Nanite Syringe.

"You fool! You know that I already have nanites in my body who can repair me back to life!"

"Er, sorry Tem." Procopio then took a second to shoot another soil-Yuriko with his Voronita. He missed.

"It's ok, at least the recoil won't hurt as much." Artemio replied as he whipped his own Voronita towards a soil-Yuriko, took a second to aim as well, and shot. It was a hit. "See, I even got a field promotion this time."

The sheer pain of being burned tens of times over stunned Yuriko clone for a very short while. Which was good for Officer Mabini, because the amount of time was enough for him to fall from mid-air to his attacker's face. As Yuriko clone regained the collective consciousness of her soil-Yurikoes, Officer Mabini stood up with a pile of loam behind him, with bits of soil stuck on his back brace as his attacker was crushed under his brace's weight. "What do you know, saved by the brace again. I could've broken my own back with that fall."

The thousands of Constables that were still left began huddling together near the corpses of their slain friends, took their bandoleers, and with the looted ammunition lain down so much firepower on the enemy that numerous soil-Yurikoes were simply cut in half by the superheated slugs, while the bears went prancing-pouncing-leaping all over some other soil-Yurikoes in a frenzy of paws and jaws while its rider kept gazing at the sky just in case a falling corpse or tank fragment might hit them.

By the time the skirmish ended, almost all Filipino tanks were crumpled, and while there still the masses of Filipino infantry, there is no way they could stand up against the rest of the Imperial arsenal. The soil-Yurikoes that engaged were just half-annihilated, but the Yuriko clone controlling them was so badly mentally scarred and traumatized by the attack that she broke down, sobbing and very tightly hugging Dr. Saiko, crying for her family and her pet dog and her being just a clone and her being unable to find a boyfriend and her experiences in the Sanitarium; and simply dropping her vengeful persona, exposing her tender, delicate side. Of her personality. It was the tender, delicate side of her personality, for clarification's sake lest someone think otherwise. Dr. Saiko, tightly held by the pretty paraprotagonist, then just smiled like a trollface, and did a thumbs up in front of an imaginary camera. We all get those moments ourselves, I guess.

At the end of the attack, both sides decided to report it as a victory: the Filipinos for defending themselves against an ambush of Yurikoes, and the Japanese for fending off a massive attack with not one casualty.

"But the Psionic Decimator still stands. And this blasted internet connection is still blasted! Has somebody been stealing telephone wires to our top-secret Constabulary base again?"

"No sir, but the interference seems to be from...the seas. As in over the seas themselves sir. What are your instructions?"

"Contact Saviero Galloski. That structure still stands!"


	35. Operation Lukso

"So the Russian Mafia mafiosi actually is true to his word. Hard to believe that he could smuggle something like this when we couldn't even call the Americans for bullets."

The council looked upon the aircraft provided by Saviero Gallo(ski): a crashed Kirov airship that had been repaired by the skills of car smugglers. The Kirov looked very, very sad this time though, graying and rusting; only patches, weldings, and witchcraft kept the airships from crumbling into dust and helium. Nonetheless, it still seemed to fly; how could flying a thing that naturally floats in air possibly go wrong? Not like they explode in mid-air in peacetime, right?

Well, except for the LZ 130 _Hitler-fahrt_, but that was probably a Soviet bomb or a freak methane explosion. Meanwhile, two random Filipino top brass were talking.

"Wait, commander, the plan is a surgical strike onto the Psionic Decimator. How does a giant gasbag figure in?"

"They're transports."

"Are you seriously planning to paradrop troops from that? Why, even I could outrun that thing! How's that going to their base without being shot down?"

"Got better ideas, colonel?"

"Er, not really general. Why can't we just send General Araya's forces from south of the Decimator's position to destroy the device?"

"The problem exactly. We need to send some troops there to fix the telephone wires as well."

More similarly-resurrected airships were rolled out, one even with a humorously large 'eyepatch' above where the left eye paintjob should be.

"Mr. Gallo, don't you think that airship with the massive eyepatch is too badly damaged?" asked some other Filipino top brass.

"I assure you, Filipino commander, that those airships could serve you well. That airship you were referring to, the one with the eyepatch; it got its hole when its captain purposefully veered his airship and rammed a Vindicator. That airship was repaired in mid-air over France , in the heat of the battle for Paris, and finally was written off defending against Japanese air superiority aircraft way in the other side of the Soviet Empire."

Of course Saviero was lying. That airship failed the already-bad Soviet quality control, and its eyepatch came from a giant tub of Gastroburner fuel accidentally dumped onto it during its construction. The other airships themselves were in a similarly bad condition, stripped of all bombing and gastroburner mechanisms; they are simply armored cargo airships, resurrected from the dead. Some even had a dismembered leg hanging out here and a burnt human torso there, with shattered windows and ladder steps that fall off by themselves. Nonetheless, the airships were badly needed for Operation Lukso, the objectives of which are vague to everyone including the top brass themselves.

Teams of engineeros were sent to fix up the airships _on the fly_, though due to the rushed nature of the project they likely wouldn't care to remove the stray human body parts draped all over the cabin. Planks were laid all over the floors just in came it fell though, and makeshift scaffolds in the bomb bays and Gastroburner system held tons' worth of Filipinos and their ammunition. In all, officially a hundred Filipino soldiers were assigned to fly in each airship, along with a complement of flight crew and Engineeros still repairing the airship. However, as is common for the Philippines, the airships were very, very badly overloaded, despite the fact that no one really wants to fly in a thing that killed its former passengers. Such zeal, or desperation, indeed... They didn't even bother to christen the airship; after the Engineeros laid down wooden scaffolds and planks for the infantry to stand on, the airships were sent to fly away. Then the officials drank the wine they were supposed to christen the airships with.

Finally, when the airships began to fly, fully loaded with a battalion of troops and Engineeros, the first transmission from the suicidal fleet came.

"This is Airship number..._Noy can you look up the side of this thing...'_Sir it reads "588" sir._' _588 under the command of Officer Mabini, again. Does this radio work? What do I call this thing anyway?"

"This is ground control, commander. You have contact with us. So that...just call it 'Zombie Kirov' or something. What the hell is a Kirov anyway?"

"Ever checked Wikipedia yet ground control? Oh, whoops, sorry I forgot; no internet. As I remember, Kirov is either some well-known Soviet guy, or some place in USSR."

"So, Officer Mabini, we should call it something that is a well-known person, and a place as well. How about _Quezon_, after the president and the province where he was born?"

"But he is already a class of shippy-ship-ship floating ship, ground control."

"How about_ Aurora_ then, his First Lady? She also had a province named after her."

"Nice idea Officer Mabini. Just thinking though, if it still had the bombing mechanisms we could call it the _Aurora Bomber_, which would be way cooler than this _Aurora Transport_. And by the way, I hope you have trained your troops well on how to rappel, because that's our plan."

"This is Airship...er..Aurora 588. WHAT? No parachutes? Just rappel?"

"Don't be afraid; it's a cinch. Now go to near-stratosphere level and make them rappel from there. Don't worry, we've sent each and everyone there rappelling gear."

"Ground control, there's no rope here that reaches 2 kilometers. Are you sure of doing a combat drop with this thing?"

"Point taken. Drop your troops safely a slight distance away from the Japanese instead...you're the commander. Decide that for yourself!"

"What about enemy interceptors or anti-air psionics? Requesting Lamok escort at least."

Ground control did not respond. Looking back, Officer Mabini could still barely see the base where they took off, and gave them the finger. He then threw away the finger, along with the rest of the charred, dismembered hand, because it was distracting for the pilot to steer the airship when its former captain's hand was still clutching the controls.

It was a long ride aboard these airships, and despite their massive size it could still get pretty boring being cramped inside the very hot bomb bays. Despite the panoramic views and pathetically slow top speeds rivaling any Philippine airborne tour, or the scary haunted-house nature of the blood-splattered cabin, most of the troops were already nodding off, or already fast asleep lying on dried blood and burnt flesh. The Engineeros were busy sawing wooden ladders to replace the damaged steps, and in all managing to do a good job of making the airship fly better by chucking out the useless pieces of rust all over the airship, like pesky spare propellers or fake Order of the Red Banners, or some corpses or rats or moldy beds. This however managed to attract the interest of the Japanese, who discerned that Soviet military decorations, and Soviet beds, and Soviets themselves, just don't fall from the sky. Especially Soviet corpses; they don't normally get sucked up by Magnetic Satellites. Soon enough squadrons of Jet Tengus scouted the area, and found the ailing airships.

It was a very tense moment, as shouts from all over the airship fleet rang to alert them of the presence of enemy Jet Tengus just hovering beside them. The elite Tengu pilots themselves wondered _Haven't I shot this Kirov # 588 over Russia? What's it doing here? Am I going insane?_ as the lumbering eyepatched beasts lazily floated over the bright Filipino sky. It was very surreal, with the bright tropical sun, the clouds beneath their aircraft, with their Tengus seemingly humming even more quietly than normal, and these undead airships having risen from their fiery demise, similar but not like the Phoenix of gaijin cultures. No, these airships were not reborn from a gastroburner-induced explosion like a Phoenix, they were rudely disturbed from their resting places, ripped off from their own mortality to serve these crazy Filipino masters, against the airships' own wills, forever, like zombies. The Kirovs' still-grinning faces are only a visage; their moss-mottled skin and bright red rusty frame belied their truly tired state, their eyepatches denoting the abuse that time with the Filipinos had given them. As crumbs of rust continuously fell from the airships upon the bright white clouds below, the Tengu pilots couldn't feel anything but pity for the airships, and anger for their Filipino masters.

A split second later, the Japanese realized that the Filipinos were using crumbly old airships to fight them, and felt pity for _both_ airships and their Filipino masters. The collective 'vision' made the ace Japanese pilots bow at the dead airships, and ceremonially shot at the air as a gun salute. Their less-skilled counterparts were still wondering why they weren't just shooting these dilapidated airships instead, having far too much ambition and too little patience to understand what their senior pilots saw. As the procession of dead airships progressed, the ace pilots reverently watched, while the rookie Tengu pilots flew in for the kill. The Filipinos, however, did not understand what was happening, and when the gun salute occurred they then readied their assorted weapons and aimed at the Japanese aircraft for a last-ditch attempt to ward off the Japanese. Commander Mabini was already calling for the promised Lamok air support, but there was no response. Finally, when the Japanese rookies flew in for the kill...

They blew up. The Japanese rookies blew up as a massive barrage of superheated slugs, shotgun shells, and rockets and other man-portable weapons shot at them. The ace pilots realized that the Kirov airship spirits are reneging their death, and avenging their deaths as well, so the ace pilots flew away as their less-experienced comrades valiantly tried to down the 'easy kills' that began to pour a battalion's worth of firepower at them. Engineeros clambered all over the airship to check for penetrations, while Constables got out of the dorsal hatch of the airships and began shooting down at the Jet Tengus trying to shoot the gondola. Soon a sizeable mass of 25 Constables shot blindly on the Jet Tengus, which, while ineffective at best, managed to down so many enemies when the slugs pierced the cockpit and turned their pilots to Swiss cheese, or ripped apart the Tengus' jet blades and shattered the engines, or punctured fuel lines, or some other ways how a simple assault carbine could kill an air superiority fighter.

Some of the Tengus realized that flying around airships that emit an Aura of Bullets is not a good idea, so they transformed into Mecha Tengus to land on the airships, but the mass or bullets firing at them by Constables knocked them Tengus off the Auroras plummeting towards their deaths, their pilots still waiting for the Mecha Tengu/Jet Tengu cooldown. Meanwhile...

"This is Commander Mabini to ground control. WHERE IS AIR SUPPORT?"

"Er, this is ground control. We're sorry commander, high command, er, _forgot_ to dispatch the Lamoks."

"Tell them this: 'Kayo ay Putrag!s (and it rhymes)!'"


	36. Operation Lukso Part 2

The dogfight between the agile, nimble VX air superiority fighters and the greying, rusted-out airship dungeon-transports had lasted all day. Surprisingly, it was a stalemate, with the Tengu pilots having developed the superior tactic of just shoot randomly at the airship at range. With that strategy, the massive barrage of carbine fire could be partially avoided, and their autocannons could pierce a bit more holes on the airships before the Japanese fighters could be downed by Muramasas, Voronas, Javelins, or any variety thereof.

On the other hand, the airship fleet is slowly losing lifting gas, with Engineeros rushing around the makeshift scaffolds patching up the airships with wooden planks and Russian airmen corpses, while the on-board ammunition supply is being steadily depleted as well.

_"So, commander, do you think we could fend them off for longer?"_

_"I don't think so. We're running out of lifting gas, and of stuff to patch those holes. Hell, those Engineeros have used up almost all of the planks available, and have already taken to using the Russian corpses and destroyed Tengus on top of this thing to weld it back in one piece. In fact, despite the ammunition problem I wouldn't dare let those troops stop firing blindly, if only because their guns consume ammo enough for us to stay light and flying."_

_"Sir, where is air support by the way?"_

_"Oh, I don't know. Probably in some general's kid's birthday party, flying in formation, writing out the words 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON!' using colored pesticide. I bet the general even forgot his kid's name, and just took the whole Philippine air arm for his own matters to make up for his very tiny peni..."_

_"Oh, sir, look, airplanes! With Filipino markings at that. Oh, what were you saying sir?"_

And sure enough, there were airplanes. Jets even, much better than what the Philippine air arm could deploy without importing. The Constables looked at the single jet streaking across the sky, outrunning even the Jet Tengus that tried to intercept it. The cool Filipino plane then turned around, and made another swift pass at the airship squadron, leaving two burning Jet Tengus in its wake.

"_Our guardian angel..._" Commander Mabini said, assured. "_And I meant a very tiny peni...cillin. He might need the entire air force as medevac in case he gets sick._" He added. The soldier just looked at the commander.

He then spied the markings on the plane better. Sure, it was distinctly Filipino, but there was something odd with its specific markings.

"_It's a PAG-ASA plane_." "Pag-asa" is a Filipino word meaning "hope". PAG-ASA is also the Filipino atmospheric/geophysical/astronomical research arm of the Philippines. Go figure.

Meanwhile, on the ground, another battalion of soil-Yurikoes were roaming the area in search of Filipino ground support to the airship-borne attack, just in case. They were led by Admiral 898 itself, aboard a King Oni. But as proven by GPS and the Internet, artificial intelligence is rather stupid in directions, and the King Oni managed to get lost in the middle of Philippine nowhere, with no soil-Yuriko escort. Despite being surrounded by soil-Yurikoes just a minute ago. _"1010. The orientation compass is deflected by my metal body! 1011. 1010. Buggy! Buggy! Now what? 1011."_

The lost robot then spies on a small forward base the Filipinos have established, supposedly to supply the armored ground assault a chapter before. "_1010. Target sighted. Assassination protocols initiated. 1011._" The robot admiral's 'assassination protocols' was then inadvertently activated by the robot itself when it spotted the humanoid targets while controlling a humanoid body. Admiral 898's programming then reverts to a more primal, savage 'assassination-protocol' state, specifically the one where its programmers built in _Tekken_ to play with when the boss is not around. With a cartwheel the King Oni rolled into the forward base, and began to karate chop the fortifications. Pesky little Constables began to shoot at the robot with little effect; they were then all thrown to lethal heights with just one sweeping kick. A couple of reassembled Guardian Tanks then showed up to fire at the threat, but with a kick and a jump the gigantic machine was beyond the tank guns' angle. A couple of seconds later the Robot crashes down on the tanks, while piledriving a Filipino Twinblade it managed to catch mid-air.

"_Darn, that robot's gone amok again? That's the seventeenth Admiral-in-an-Oni incident that we had in two weeks! What other bugs does that Admiral 898 programming have? I won't have any more Boat Racer-induced submergences of King Onis, got it?_" the ninja commander shouted, stealthily. "_Oh, just get another Admiral 898, and don't load it on a King Oni. Even if it gives you explicit orders to do so._" The unremarkable commander's remarkably calm, dry remark elicited positive responses from the Japanese Engineers. They had been getting the short stick of fate lately, having to follow conflicting orders from the 20-or-so resurrected Admiral 898's, and the human commanders, and from their own common sense. Probably they were thinking more of '_I should just get myself back home designing better mecha than waiting in this jungle wasteland to die_'. The current Admiral 898, having blocked out outside signals with its own rabid silicon brain, has already laid waste to yet another precious loaned Apocalypse tank as it waltzed across Filipino battle lines.

Then it rained. The rain only made it worse, as the giant robot became surprisingly stealthy due to the drabness of surroundings, and its own agility. Individual Constables were themselves abducted one-per-giant King Oni hand without their buddies even noticing. The last that their buddies saw of them that day was as crushed remains being dropped on top of them, as a taunt. The precision, the swift, the clean motions of the normally lumbering giant beast surprised the Filipinos, who then began to clump together for safety in the rain only to be squished by a giant metal foot. Tanks were not safe either; a powerful dual karate chop from the martial combat giant robot was already enough to mission kill them. The Filipinos decided then to flee far, very far away from the hidden, rampaging robot; this they did well because they Filipinos themselves were obscured as well by the rain.

Overhead, the rain began to obscure the dogfighting aircraft as well. "_No, rain. Quick, increase lift immediately! Not another typhoon!_" The dense, damp air, heavier than normal air, assisted in the airship captains' desires, and soon enough the heavy rainclouds descended below the airships. The Jet Tengus they were combatting earlier were all lost trying to find their prey in the storm.

Commander Mabini then realized what that quick PAG-ASA jet was doing: cloudseeding. The pilot seeded the clouds around the dogfight to obscure the airships and allow them to escape. To think that he always thought that pilots involved in simple cloudseeding missions are cowards, pacifists, or even worse, collaborators; he could not be more wrong and thanked the cloudseeding pilot, who allowed Mabini's insertion force to make a crucial tactical regrouping despite the Aurora Transports' slowness.

Commander Mabini then saw the cloudseeding pilot pass by very slowly. The pilot threw a rock at Commander Mabini's airship, at the gondola itself. "_PUTRAG!s_" Commander Mabini replied as he barely avoided the rock. As the PAG-ASA jet sped past the profanity-spewing commander, the commander noticed that the rock the insolent cloudseeding pilot threw actually had a note attached. Scrawled onto it was a simple "Elektrify clouds below."

"_No way that I'm going to risk my airships down that storm! You there, and you, put on your Tesla Trooper guns and rappelling stuff._" The soldiers complied to this sudden and odd order, and soon enough found themselves at the door of the airship, with carabiners behind their backs and Tesla guns at their hands. "_Just, you know, shoot those clouds as the weird science guy pilot says._" And with a firm nudge Commander Mabini pushes both of them out of the airship, to a few tens of meters below to the raincloud. With a puzzled look the soldiers began shooting the clouds with electricity, when out of the clouds a Jet Tengu hurtles out, barely missing the soldiers hanging around with their Tesla guns! The soldiers scramble to lock and load their weapons when the speeding Jet Tengu opens fire!

Suddenly, from the clouds below a freak bolt of lightning hits the Jet Tengu! Multiple fires began appearing all over the fuselage as the pilot, shocked in horror and literal meaning alike, tried to control the non-responsive aircraft controls with his non-responsive hands. The Jet Tengu blows up after that, with shards embedding themselves into the airships.

A collective "_WAHOO!_" is heard from the airships.

The shock and awe meant that two suspended soldiers remained dangling at their spots above the thunderstorm for a few more minutes, looking at the fireball, before they themselves were jerked out of their amazement by the airship troops' trying to pull the rappelling cables back up again to retrieve their heroic comrades. All over the thunderclouds Jet Tengus began blowing up as lightning struck them; some even had fireballs going past the upper reaches of the clouds to make a spectacle for the airshippers watching above.

Having just collapsed the last of the Filipino forward base, Admiral 898's King Oni stands tall and proud amidst the rain and wreckage. "_1010. HAHAHAHAHA! 1011._" And as much as standing tall is such a fun thing to do, it should also be done in a proper place. Like, say, not in the middle of a thunderstorm. Lightning then streaks across the dark clouds, accompanied with the peal of thunder. A few seconds later, a dull, robotic, truly Japanese *THUD* can be heard.


	37. Operation Lukso Part 3

The Aurora transports limped along the sky. Having been consigned to the scrapyards even before being finished, these sad airships had been leaking helium for hours, the brave Filipinos aboard slowly dying of battle wounds, made worse by infections from rotting corpses of the airships' former crew, and the mind-numbing monotony of blue skies and dark clouds.

Then an eastern wind blew across the fleet. It carried water vapours, which had a slight taste of rainwater in them. However, unlike normal rainwater, the taste was more tangy, tasteless, and dry (ironically for water). It tasted like well-brewed tropical typhoon.

"_Stooorm!"_

"_What? Where? When?_"

The surroundings were still tranquil, relatively.

"_Not yet, but soon! It tastes like...it's about 6 hours away._"

A sharp smack shut up the stormtasting soldier. Meanwhile, some of the crew spotted a lonely Japanese-claimed airport in the middle of an island.

Commander Mabini looked at the airship captain. "_Could you land this airship on that airport? I'd like to capture it, you know, repair this thing by itself faster. a storm is coming up and..."_

"_I don't think so commander. There's no mooring tower on that thing, and we can't possibly outrun a storm. Our best bet is to hope that this airship fleet could fly above the storm, but with no extra helium it'd be impossible._"

The commander paused for a while. He then turned around, and over the airshipwide public announcement system he relayed the message "_Who would like to volunteer to capture that Japanese-held airport beneath us?_"

However, his PA system is less than effective, consisting of soldiers shouting the single message all over the airship until stopped. A school bus would've been more civilized. Finally, someone responded. It was all the Engineeros, the whole airship repair crew, who have put so much effort repairing a badly damaged airship with nothing more than planks and prayers. And they were eager to leave ship; they were sick of it.

"_Sorry. Just one._" The Engineero corps then began to fight over who gets to leave the hellish airship. The commander just sighed, pulled an Engineero from the rumbling pile of similar units, gave him a gun and a rappelling system, and kicked him out of the Aurora. The Engineero plummeted a few hundred feet, shouting and screaming for dear life all the way down, before he dropped his gun. Despite his 'fall' being regulated by a very long cable from the airship. The Engineero realized that he dropped his gun onto the airport's glass roof below him, and watched as the gun fell down faster than himself, and then did he realize that he was not falling at 9.8 m/s^2.

Meanwhile, the sole Japanese Engineer, operating the captured airport, was enjoying a cup of tea. He looked up the airport's skylight, enjoying the final rays of the tropical sun before it would be totally covered by the typical tropical depression that battered the Philippines twenty times a year. He took a sip of tea under the warm waning sun, when he was disturbed by a loud THUD above him. The skylight shattered above him, raining shards of sharply lethal glass. The Japanese Engineer was only a few seconds from impalement when he was able to take cover underneath his chair, as a blinding crystalline downpour went about him, reflecting the sunlight in shades of bright sparkling yellow and Spectrum Tower bolts around him. For a split second it was a very surreal scene of immense beauty, until the Engineero's gun, which broke the skylight in the first place, landed with a heavy thud on a floor discharging munitions with its barrel right before the Japanese Engineer's eyes.

When the Engineero landed, quite safely, there was glass and blood all over the floor as the lifeless form of the Japanese Engineer rolled out from under his chair, tea spilling from his last cup. A bunch of Filipino soldiers dropped in as well and joined the Engineero, garrisoning the airport. "_I don't know why they never thought of garrisoning their own tech structures..._", Commander Mabini said with a shrug. Almost immediately canisters of helium were lifted up the cables, together with chairs, fixtures, and anything else that can repair the airship. With haste the airships left.

"_Do you hear me now? This in Engineero Perez, in the Air Traffic Control Tower. And yeahp, I now have a good view of the gaping hole on the left side of your airship. Yeah, left side. Here it is, I've got this airport's _How to Repair Your Kirov _manual here (how come we never have our own photocopies of this book in our base? Oh, yeah, the Copyright Committee won't let us have a copy of this without buying it. So overpriced!) Now listen, the first step in repairing the rib at 34AYC is to weld...of course you should first remove the piece of string there! That string's only because we don't have anything else to put together those..."_

Commander Mabini just nodded. "_So that's how capturing airports make aircraft auto-heal..._"_  
><em>


	38. Drab Special Effects

Off-shore, the air fleet of less-dilapidated Aurora Transports was just flying lazily towards their drop point behind Japanese lines. The hum of the engines were partly muffled by the amount of wooden planks used to mend those components, leaving the more noisy chatter of Filipino soldiers unli-calling their families with their personal, individual cellphones.

But these weren't just simple cellphones, they were rugged, military-grade cellphones specially made to provided short-range encrypted transmissions and long-range family calls at the same time. Each one, before being packaged, has been tested for durability by angry wives throwing them, tested for waterproofing by being repeatedly dunked in 'simulated' barracks toilet bowls, and…

And then all calls were cut. Text messages couldn't be sent, nor received either. The incessant chatter of issues personal and domestic was replaced by the beep-beep-beep-beep of keypads as the soldiers tried to reconnect with their families, friends, mistresses, and acquaintances. For a few minutes.

After that, there was an uproar truly terrifying, as hundreds of troops began complaining about how their cellphone service provider did not take extra security measures for all the load they accumulated from the Filipino masses. But then, none, not even one of the three major cellphone service providers had signal. From the aft of the airship emerged Commander Mabini, also looking disgruntled.

"All right, who tripped on the cable?" He had the same problem of lack of wireless communication, and was using the airship's telecom to listen to a boxing match. He had just bet the tattered family manor with ground control, and is really eager to know if he gets to keep his bullet-riddled house, or lose it. "WHO TRIPPED ON THE…"

The chaps at ground control noticed that Commander Mabini's airship fleet lost radio contact. "They finally gone at last, isn't it? Told you those airships were rubbish."

"True, but the enemy Decimator device still stands as a threat. Got any other proposal on how to deal with it?"

"None, general."

"How about the proposed All-Filipino Ultimate Weapon/Tourist Destination?"

"Er, none still sir. They have had no progress ever since internet is lost."

Just then, Turiano Carpio walked up to those distressed generals. Motioning towards the door, there stood the philosopher's lovely secretary, holding a CD. Its case was labeled "_Nihilating Proof_", in the elegant German Bold Italic typeface.

The junior general growled. "So, philosopher, what is that supposed to be, eh?"

The philosopher plugged a cellphone to his laptop, also with a sound file named '_Nihilating Proof_'. He then dialed some number, and the phone was answered.

"Herro? Imperriaw Japanese Psionic Decimator Facility speeking. Whoo is thiis?"

The philosopher then played the Nihilating Proof sound file, motioning to the giant TV screen focused on the Psionic Decimator. The generals looked at the Psionic Decimator, and the surrounding buildings. The superweapon seemed to waver a bit, its image in the camera becoming more and more blurred as if in a photograph at the horror movie The Ring, right down to the odd view of the surrounding units and buildings still looking unaffected. Finally, the blurring disappeared, together with the rest of the Psionic Decimator. The philosopher then called another number, and another, and then another, until one by one the surrounding structures blurred until they all disappeared as well, leaving only the people inside those buildings. The Psionic Decimator receptionist was still going "Herro, herro, herro...whoo is thiis..." until she noticed that she was hung up. In mid-air.

"How humane, Mr. Carpio."

Japanese people hovered for a while wondering how they got up there (or how did the walls and roof and floor disappear around them, which is more accurate), then fell down crumpled on the soil where the ground floor was. They were janitors, scientists, young recruits, and such and so who were working on the upper floors of their respective buildings when magically (or philosophically, which is more precise) the floors beneath them disappeared, together with the rest of the building. While the fall wasn't very painful for some of the lower buildings, the Philippine High Command witnessed some Japanese geek on the upper floor of the Nanotech Mainframe plummeting, while at the bottom there was a man practicing his katana skills while falling as well, while beneath both of them a Japanese soldier was practicing on how to hold the Imperial flag rigidly upward. Ouch. So in total, a sizable chunk of the base was destroyed, or rather, blurred out of existence, leaving nothing more than wounded, shocked, horrified, or just downright confused desk duty people wondering what the hell just happened.

The junior officer just had to ask. "So, philosopher, what the hell just happened?" The philosopher shot an annoyed look at him, wordlessly expressing great doubts if that junior officer was in _any_ of his Military Philosophy classes, or just some bastard who got his position by being relative or friends with anybody in Philippine High Command. "Padrino system…"

The senior officer had to butt in. "Don't you get it, it's the application of what's-that-lesson-again…anyway…what just happened is that those buildings have been disproved out of existence."

Commander Ninja and the unremarkable commander were eating together with Admiral 898 in the stealthily-hidden Imperial V.I.P. bunker nearby. Or rather, Admiral 898 was just there doing nothing except for watching at its co-commanders feed, silently proving to itself that siliceous life forms such as itself are far more superior than their organic counterparts, such as these two _Homo sapiens_ Japanese commanders near him. Meanwhile, the unremarkable commander was sharing on how he met this hot Rocket Angel at the Imperial Army Morale-Raiser Party the other night, and how she seems to dig him, and that he should take his chance because he is rarely noticed anywhere, even at high school dances and promenades… Commander Ninja just nodded, visible bored and uninterested since no one invited him for fear that he would destroy the dance floor with his kickass dance moves and his gigantic DevilCoat. "Besides, I'm a ninja. No one could see me dance because no one could see me, especially in such a dark place." the handicapped commander assured himself. The unremarkable commander seemed oblivious or blissfully unaware to that fact about the guy he's speaking to, and chatted on and on, much to the ninja commander's growing disdain.

"1010. What is happening to the Psionic Decimator Facility? It's…swirling. 1011."

"Heh, admiral, you must be high on…hemp oil or whatever you use to operate.", quipped the ninja commander.

"Admiral, you're destroying a good conversation. Recheck your optics, maybe it's just damage from that stupid videogame programmed into your memory."

"1010. It's real. Check for yourselves. 1011."

"Oh…my…Emperor."


	39. Breaking the Stalemate

Everyone was in awe. The Filipino generals looked at the screen, inside which only soil and people stand where a doomsday device used to be. It was gone, all gone, the number one threat to Filipino sovereignty has gone missing in a blurring vortex of pixels, along with a large number of similarly immobile Japanese assets which are called buildings. All that with the power of a well-made phone call. It staggers the mind as to how exactly did that just happen, and while scientists are scrambling to find the scientific basis for an event as drastic as that, Turiano Carpio knew. He disproved the existence of the Psionic Decimator together with the surrounding buildings, and reality itself begrudgingly had to admit that it itself is wrong and the philosopher is right. To mend this mistake in reality, all matter within relatively fixed coordinates in space (i.e. non-moving structures, commonly called buildings) were then ripped out of their space-time moorings and transferred to some other spot in some different higher dimensions. Like a more powerful Chronosphere, but requiring much less energy and a much greater understanding of the logical, pseudomechanical underpinnings of the Red Alert multiverse.

The Japanese, on the other hand, could not understand what the hell just happened.

"It wasn't the Chronosphere! Surely the Allies would not have done that; the veteran Japanese troopers have witnessed the Chronosphere in action and it was nothing like what they have just seen. Besides, the Chronosphere never affects buildings, and our intelligence network did not say anything about modified Chronosphere projects."

"1010. It cannot be the Russians either. It's not very...'Russian', to create something that could eliminate targets with such precision. They also seem too stupid to create anything at all original, for that matter, seeing that almost none of their arsenal originated from that icy wasteland..."

"So what does that have to do with it?"

"... (1010. I'm not done. 1011.)...Their infamous Tesla technologies, together with its magnetic applications including the Iron Curtain Device, were Balkan. Their feared tanks were a British innovation, with its engines being either of the internal combustion type (German) or Tesla type (Balkan). The guns of the revolution, the mines of the Union, the rockets' Red glare; all just Chinese applications for saltpeter. America was the first to develop airplanes such as the MiG, while the powerplant is British (or German, depending on who you ask). Kirov airships? French. Akula submarines? Dutch. The only thing the Russians have contributed to military science is the Vaccuum Imploder superweapon, the multipedal walker (Terror Drone, Sickle), and the helicopter (and even then, Sikorsky became an American citizen). Oh, and the sludge that powers their Super Reactors. 1011."

The unremarkable commander had to suggest. "How about the locals?"

"Are you seriously telling us that these...local wildlife caused the destruction of the Psionic Decimator? The Allies, we could fear, seeing that they have England and America with them, which brought us the Meiji Restoration back in the 1800's and so on and so forth. The Russians, we could not fear, seeing that we've been kicking their asses since Tshushima. So what exactly made you think that these...Filipinos, and not those other world powers, destroyed a whole, complete, fully functional Decimator?"

"Er, maybe the fact that the Psionic Decimator destroyed is the Philippine one, and not the other Decimators scattered all over the world, decimating what should be decimated?"

"Point. Thing is, how? No known superweapon could possibly destroy a Psionic Decimator in one shot, and no one really saw any enemy units raiding, right? Burst Drone patrols spotted nothing at all..." He then quickly glances on the command screen, with Burst Drones flying around the screen still detecting nothing. "What could they Filipinos have stolen that could have destroyed the device?"

"Er, not Wave-Force. Wave-Force tends to kill people inside buildings. Doesn't seem to be any conventional weapon either, nor does it look psionic in nature. Could be Chrono, but then Chrono kills people. This thing left people alive exactly where they were a moment ago. No satellite strikes detected, nor flares either. It's as if the thing just blurred and was gone!"

"Ok then. First things first. Colonel, I want a complete and systematic search for possible saboteurs within a kilometer. Or ten, just to be sure. Random soldier, check the witnesses if they noticed anything weird. You, Mr. Lieutenant-guy-whatever-your-rank-is, put all forces on alert, higher alert. And you scientist-investigator type person, search for traces of whatever chemical used in the attack. Looks like you'll have the hardest job of all; they did not just destroy the Psionic Decimator, they did not even leave rubble behind. And finally, private, grab some local girls for tonight's Imperial Army Morale-Raiser Party. We'll need it. Did I forget anything?"

"Er, apart from proper military decorum, not much it seems. But more importantly, how will we explain this to the Emperor?"

The commanders had to let the higher-ups know of the loss of this insanely expensive device. True, there would be a lot of problems reporting it, but then the nature of the loss of the device could prove valuable. They then opened up the intercom, setting the frequencies right, until they got a link to Mainland Japan.

"Something's not right here."

"1010. All such major occurrences should be transmitted to them. It should be done. 1011."

"No, not that. As I remember, we have deployed the Imperial Communication Jammer Array System to paralyze enemy communications. We should be not having any connection with the mainland!"

"Yeah, then why are we talking?" It was Commander Kenji himself, taking a break from command. "Did you contact me just to ask how to repair that thing? Because, as I remember, three whole armies with reinforcements were sent to subdue those Filipinos to ease up the invasion of Australia. And now look at what..."

The unremarkable commander glanced at the ninja commander, and whispered. "Why contact him? He's the most snobbish arrogant of them bunch!" The ninja commander uneasily, stealthily, replied "We have no choice. He may be filled with hubris, but he's our best bet to analyze what kind of weapon was used in the attack, and how to counter it." Commander Kenji then continued blabbering about the sacrifices he and his company is taking while the invasion officers keep failing.

"Also, we could really use the Communication Jammer to shut him up." Commander Ninja (not his real name) added to his reply to the unremarkable commander.

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away or so, Commander Mabini's air fleet was engaging elements of the Imperial Navy. As feared as the Imperial Navy is, its weakness of not having the ability to deploy Jet Tengu air superiority fighters from out in the Docks in the deep blue sea is becoming very apparent in this battle.

"Ha! Got another one of those pesky flying subs!" Artemio then reloaded his Voronita. A few minutes ago, his buddy Procopio has just sniped the weak spindly legs of what seems to be a giant communication tower - an Imperial Communication Jammer Array node. The tower began to trip as strong sea winds buffeted it, and the tower toppled right onto a Naginata cruiser, damaging the ship so heavily that the barrage of Constable bullets finally managed to sink the ship at long last. More importantly for the soldiers however was the cheerful beeping of their cellphones, indicating that they have finally received their text messages after what seemed an eternity aboard the slow, mind-numbing airships. It was more that just a text message for them though, it is an assurance that their families are safe without them. It is a respite from the ugly war that ruined their lives. It is almost a touch with family, friends, loved ones. But more importantly, it is hope, hope that if they do their jobs very well they could guarantee a better future for their friends, family, and country. And as such it was inspiration enough for the Filipino fighters to continue hammering the enemy below them such ferocity that the Japanese fleet had to retreat.

Or perhaps it was just Emperor's Revenge cast upon the Filipinos by the opposing force to facilitate a full retreat of their assets without fear of pursuit.


	40. PHilosophy and Law

"Today we have reached a new era in the history, not only of the Filipino country, but of the world as well. Never has so quick, so efficient, so precise an elimination of any threat to the sovereignty of our country been done as before achieved by the Philippine Constabulary. A few days ago, September 22, at 1430 H, Turiano Carpio, Doctor of Philosophy in Military, er, Philosophy, has single-handedly eradicated all one hostile Psionic Decimator within our national boundaries, and thus threatening our country's might to defend itself against the bad, bad nation of Japan. All this using nothing more than the power of the human mind, in a non-psionic setting unlike the Psionic Decimator, without using costly equipment such as the Vacuum Imploder or the Proton Collider. This is a truly monumental weapon, promising cheap, safe, and effective defense against any invaders of our land. With emphasis on cheap, and on effective, and on monumental, seeing that the Department of Tourism has expressed interest in using this defense for tourism purposes. As such, there would be cake..."

The president's televised speech was rudely disturbed by the slamming of the huge wooden double doors of the media reception room. "STOP the PROCESSION! THIS MAN, Turiano Carpio, has illegally used the techniques outlined in his textbooks...TO CREATE THIS WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION!" The video camera swings slowly towards the pesky shouting disturbance, displaying a group of smartly dressed lawyers of the Intellectual Property Rights Union. "This professor here has, in the process of creating his Nihilating Proof, has infringed on numerous intellectual property rights of my client here..."

The lawyers then point their fingers menacingly at Turiano Carpio, who was just silently watching at the lawyers babble about the relatively mundane, if still rather significant, matters of intellectual property. In the middle of a war. "Mr. Turiano Carpio, see us in court...soon."

Two generals were bored listening to the militant lawyers continue their legalese speech on copyright. They were very excited for the reception, see, because there's a lot of delicious food in the reception, and those copyright guys were just delaying the lunch.

"You know, had they found out that our tanks shattered through international patent laws..." said one general to the other discreetly.

"Shhhh...later general. I still don't understand how the author of his own book would be charged with copyright infringement when he used _his own_ book.

The general was still trying to grasp the specifics of law, which like in any other country, could be mighty mind-bending. Apparently his colleague didn't think too much of the twists of logic so dexterously applied by the lawyers, preferring instead to think of the food and at the reception. "So why don't you ask them, if you're oh-so-interested?"

"Good point." The general then asked his question. "How could Turiano Carpio break copyright laws when he is using his own book? What, is this self-plagiarism, or did he plagiarize from other people, because as I remember, the Nihilating Proof cited his textbook."

The lawyers smiled. They knew somebody would ask that. They then replied, almost in unison. "It's because he does not anymore own the copyright to any of the books he wrote. It's owned by our organization, to prevent abuses in copyright."

The general looked bewildered. "What, did he sell the copyright or something?" The general's colleague just looked away, cursing himself for giving that general a (pirated) CD of the_ LAW & DRAMA _legal drama television series. But then, that general thought that the pirated CD was about the M72 LAW, and when it was about cheesy lawyers flirting in legalese, he just gave it to his colleague who is now asking about the specifics of copyright, starting from the Statute of Anne (1709). The point is, lunch is delayed, and asking questions concerning the things lawyers love, like say...law, is only making everyone hungrier while not really helping in the legal quandary the war philosopher has gotten into. Nor does it help in kicking Japanese gluteus maximus, so what the hell.

"Turiano Carpio died. Thus we took over all of the copyrights he held, for the stability of the legal system and thus our country in general, general."

Courtroom, a few days later. Apparently the lawyers at Intellectual Property Rights Union had good connections, since normally court schedules are scheduled months away. But then, the pile of unresolved cases burned down in the Battle of Manila, and it seems that no one thought of having any backup electronic or otherwise. So yep, the courtroom has a clean slate by which _Turiano Carpio vs. Intellectual Property Rights Union (Philippine chapter)_ could fit in and proceed almost-immediately.

It was the stereotypical courtroom scene. Lush narra wood panels, varnished, dominated the colour of the place. slight patches of cheap plywood filled in for the damages. The windows, a bit broken by Japanese bombardment a few months prior, still flowed into the room intense tropical sun rays, dust floating up almost shimmering. The Intellectual Property Rights Union guys were there, all dressed in smart black suits men and women alike. Sadly, none of them looked as good as those in the telly. On the other side was Turiano Carpio, and some cheap lawyer fresh out of law school. His lawyer apparently wasn't very smart: good lawyers had their own firms, or was in one. This rookie was the free legal support. But then, it didn't matter to the philosopher of war: he is _the_ Philosopher of War. He, Turiano Carpio, may not know all the new laws enacted, but he could surely argue for himself. He argued with reality itself...and won! And that...even while dead. To the philosopher, analyzing copyright law is peanuts.

Except it wasn't. When the philosopher began to speak slight nuggets...no...dust of wisdom in law and philosophy for the first 2 minutes, members of the jury fainted of mental exhaustion. Some had to be hospitalized due to excessive blood loss from their noses. The judge himself had to cover his ears and go "LALALALALA" before he faints as well. Quite simply, another courtroom session had to be scheduled for the next day, for all these lesser minds to recover. Also the courthouse cracked a little bit due to Turiano Carpio's immense philosophizing, and the next session had to be scheduled somewhere else.

Unfortunately for Turiano Carpio this time, his lawyer is far incompetent that those in the IPRU, and since the war philosopher would rather not talk and risk collapsing the courthouse around them, he would have to suffer the punishment for copyright infringement. Which, frankly, is peanuts as well, since the IPRU forgot that the laws they were using were very old laws derived from the 1935 constitution, with punishment only up to a Philippine peso (Php 1) at most. In comparison, a cheap Japanese sonic screwdriver costs about 130 Philippine pesos. (Php 130). But still, it meant that the Nihilating Proof philosophical superweapon is now in the hands of the IPRU, and out-of-court settlements aren't cheap.

So what happens to the Nihilating Proof then?


	41. New Unit: Lawful Annihilator

"_...and the Conscript goes rat-tat-tat_  
><em>and our guns go boom boom boom<em>  
><em>and the Conscript goes dead-dead-dead...<em>"

The ninja commander watches at the rather crude production number for the night's Imperial Army Morale-Raiser Party.

"Seriously lieutenant, this is your idea of improving morale? Even gaijin infants find this immature!"  
>"But commander, all of the available female comforters are...occupied, and demand far exceeds supply. And no sir, we can't set up another rave party, after you managed to bring the dancing-house down with your DevilCoat Ninja Rave Dance."<p>

"_Warning_: a _Lawful Annihilator_ has been _detected_!"

"What? So that's what the Filipinos call their own doomsday device. Step aside lieutenant, I've got to see what destroyed our own Psionic Decimator."  
>Grabbing the lieutenant and throwing her away was easy for the DevilCoat-clad commander. But even his hydraulic knees shook when he saw what the Lawful Annihilator finally is.<p>

He shook with laughter. "It's a puny car." The commander and his lieutenant chuckled a bit more, then looked at each other. "Kill it."

**In-game Unit Profile:** Lawful Annihilator

**Designation:** Mobile Amphibious Ultimate Weapon  
><strong>Training Headquarters:<strong> Intellectual Property Rights Union Office, Room 1081 Ferdinand Building  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Construction Yard

**Accessories:**  
>» Car. Sporty.<br>» License to drive  
>» License to practice law<br>» No license to kill  
>» Smartphone<p>

**History:**

After Turiano Carpio lost control over his 'Nihilating Proof' superweapon to the Intellectual Property Rights Union in _Turiano Carpio vs. Intellectual Property Rights Union_, the very promising Filipino ultimate weapon was doomed to being forever held back by the bureaucracy. The Philippine Constabulary did not like their battlefield assets being locked up by piracy charges, of all things, so with much political string-pulling they then tried to reclaim the Nihilating Proof legally. It failed. With tensions rising between the military and the legislation, the President herself had to make a deal: the IPRU gets to hold on to the _basic_ Nihilating Proof, but must supply the Philippine Constabulary, as a contractor, with _corollaries_ of that proof for direct use on the battlefield against single, individual buildings; or else their license gets revoked. The Constabulary, on the other hand, must make a one-time-big-time payment to the bureaucratic middlemen in exchange for access to the IPRU corollaries. And Turiano Carpio, now the newly-instituted head of the Superweapons Committee, must revise and correct all of the IPRU corollaries - which he does, after doing his military philosopher duties first (i.e. every six minutes of in-game time). Additionally, Turiano Carpio can only _revise_, since due to ownership of the proof by the IPRU he is banned from directly using his own proof to make his own corollaries.

After all proofs have been submitted and revised, the polished corollaries can then be sent via the local IPRU lawyer deployed in the battlefield, since only IPRU lawyers are allowed to handle the proofs for legal reasons (except, partly, for Mr. Carpio - but that is only because the proofs are too difficult to make without making critical mistakes too often). And the in-field IPRU lawyer is in the car, whose only protection is millimeters of sheet metal and the inherent instability of reality itself in the face of sheer philosophy. From the car, the in-field IPRU lawyer, from herein called the "Lawful Annihilator", must make the phone calls to the target buildings, and prove to the inhabitants that their buildings couldn't exist with the IPRU corollaries. From that point onwards, reality bites (quite figuratively), and de-exists those buildings. Forever.

Due to the time-consuming effort needed to create a set of correct disproving corollaries of the Nihilating proof, thanks to legal wrangling by the IPRU, the Lawful Annihilator has become like all other superweapons: expensive (to pay off the IPRU and the bureaucrats involved), long recharge time (since Turiano Carpio has no hand in making the corollaries, and that the government prefers to buy their corollaries in bulk ), but incredibly destructive. However, unlike ordinary superweapons, this superweapon is mobile, and could flee reasonably quickly. They can also even go amphibious, using the Christopher Lao lawyer driving technique. Finally, they and their superweapon attacks are perfectly harmless to units, because individually calling each and every enemy in the vast area of effect to disprove their existence is far too time-consuming and strenuous to the corollary-makers of IPRU. But then, the sheer awe of watching the surroundings just fade and disappear seems to be a very stunning spectacle to those who can see it in action. Literally.

**Game unit:**

It is a car-based superweapon less tougher than their fixed counterparts, but still can take a lot of damage due to the sheer power of concentrated philosophy disproving most of the 'damage'. This extends to being uncrushable as well. This inferiority is of course countered by the fact that these odd ultimate weapons can move around, and even swim, though they don't attack since the IPRU lawyer has no license to kill, yet. It also could not harm units with its superweapon attack, instead dealing one-hit KO's to target buildings, from Construction Yards to even rival superweapons to make up for its inability to harm units; instead stunning them for a considerable amount of time, since buildings disappearing philosophically is just that stunning a spectacle.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Long Arm of the Law_ - Like a proper superweapon, it deals damage to a wide area anywhere on the map, despite it being a puny car instead of a hulking technological masterpiece. Apparently, concentrated philosophy is a good defense against a lot of attacks, as well.

_Demolition Permit_ - It is very good at destroying buildings...every six minutes. Its superweapon attack leaves absolutely no buildings standing within its area of effect, not even rubble.

_Restraining Order_ -It is very good at disabling units...every six minutes. Its superweapon attack, despite being able to totally annihilate buildings, could only but stun units in its area of effect without damaging them _at all_.

_Sovereignty_ - The law applies everywhere within its sovereignty: the land, the water, and the air. Similarly, the IPRU lawyer driving the car can be ordered to drive his car anywhere within the battlefield, including the waters

_No Capital Punishment_ - Without a license to kill, IPRU lawyers merely drive around diverting disproving corollaries to target buildings. They are not armed at all in any way, not even willing to run over infantry, for fear of homicide charges.


	42. Interlude

"This is like...soooo the best day of my life this week!"

"Yeah, we should do this more often, like everyday, right now!"

"Y'know, we should bring the rest of the girls next time!"

Their officers are watching the girls shop around. It was the Procurement Office, and they decided to shop at Divisoria for various materials, military or otherwise, that could be of use for the Philippine Constabulary.

"Being drafted is like...fun after all! It's like Saturday Shopping Day, only with _everything_ cheaper here in Divisoria."

"Like, yeah. Also, I never knew there could be so many varieties of dresses here! Evening dress, cocktail dress, and even Battle Dress! Divisoria has sooooo much more to offer than the malls!"

The officers at the Procurement Office were just watching their draftees shop in the commercial district of Divisoria, known throughout the Philippines for a large collection of low-priced wholesale goods. The draftees were all girls of a much higher social stratum obviously, and had it not been for their amazing ability to bargain with the usually-male shopkeepers of black-market military imports, they would've been sent to the front lines immediately so that their Valspeak could not be heard in the din of battle.

"Look sir what I've got you! Ain't it, like, fantabulous?"

"It's a Tesla suit, Mark III. A bit rusty though. Old version?"

"Uhm, da, like, duh, like, I don't know! Put it on! Put it on!"

The shopkeeper looked at the officer. "Here, lemme help you. Officer of the freshly-drafted rich pretty girls, I see. You must be the luckiest officer in the whole Constabulary."

The officer has just put on the large not-so-rubber-boots. "Yeah, though I guess they're pretty lucky as well. Fresh supplies, no combat duty, training days at their membership gym, lax garrison rules; can you believe that they painted the interior gaudy pink! And got away with it?"

"Heh heh, girls will be girls. How's the base holding up with them around?"

"Them girls always hanging around with the soldiers, especially on training day. Then they compare crushes after. Would you believe that? Promiscuous! For a country in dire need of God's help, they act as if they're not Catholic-schooled."

"What? Officer, times have changed since the Spanish era..."

"No, they also do the men. Good for the morale, but what about the moral?"

In a few more minutes the Tesla suit was finally suited up. Being recycled from scrap heaps, the local guys instead hooked up lots of car batteries on the thing, but it's okay for the officer since there are spare Tesla suit reactors back at the base, scavenged from other Tesla suits too badly shot up to be used.

"Hi sir! I like, like how it fits you! Here, let me help.." *SNAP*

The shopkeeper looked at the snapped-off part. "Hmm, wouldn't think that would snap off. You're getting strong, madam..."  
>The draftee giggles.<br>"...and in big trouble. Now there's no way we can get the officer out of the suit."

"WHAT?"

The officer was already beginning to fume up in rage, ready to immediately punish her with whatever he could think of: a hundred gigs that very instant right where they are, cleaning the male barracks including the bathrooms with her own toothbrush, no LOA for the concert...but the incessant sorrying of his draftee, together with her cute puppy eyes, softened his heart a bit.

Grumbling, he began to walk back to the truck, leaving the girls under the supervision of the other officers. He opened the door to the truck, and then remembered: he can't fit. At all. The bulky, bulbous Tesla suit was too big. No worries, he could fit in the back of the truck...but he remembered that the keys are in his pocket, in the Tesla suit, and are thus unreachable. Being stuck in the giant sphere greatly reduced the vehicles he could ride. He quickly scanned all available forms of public transportation, taxi, jeepney, bus, only to conclude that the doors won't fit him. Then he looked upwards. He had an idea.

He might, and just might, fit in the double sliding doors of the overhead railway. The officer then walked, or plodded, to the nearest terminal. Walking up the stairs was difficult, as he had to navigate the turns of the steps and all, but he finally got up. He paid for the fee, acting oblivious to the hundreds of people staring at him occupy two lines just to get a ticket. However the look on his face still gets everyone the creeps. Nothing is quite as scary as a cross man in a giant scintillating robot suit. Passing through the side gate instead of the turnstiles, with the security guard too afraid to let him go otherwise, the officermanaged to get to the platform. Like a true military man, he was just in time for the train. And like a true commuter, he was just in time for rush hour.

"Aw crap."

As the train door opened the people were already grinding on each other, pushing to get into the train. It just so happens that one of them is wearing a giant exoskeleton, and is desperate to get back to base and have the hulking armor off him. Of course, it doesn't hurt to have the giant exoskeleton powered by a battery of car batteries, so the officer simply just shoved away all opposition.

The commuters inside the train just looked as the weird guy in the giant combat suit bend forward, and with a tiny little antenna on his back already crackling they all tried to move away, vainly.

Stomp.

The conductor tried to close the door of the train, but the giant Tesla gauntlet stopped the safety door.

Stomp.

People were scrambling to get away from what seems to be a giant rusty sphere wielding a tazer on its back.

Stomp.

The train security just watched, knowing better than to disturb an extremely annoyed man in a suit that could kill in at least a hundred creative ways.

Stomp.

The train creaked as something weighing as much as a car stepped in.

Stomp. Squeeze.

A man broke a nose inside the train. The others resorted to simply ducking underneath the gargantuan Tesla Trooper in the train.

Squeeze.

A woman already late for an important business meeting watches as the train door begins to close in around the guy in the Tesla suit. Her business attire was badly crumpled when the suit shoved her off, and her hair smelled a little bit of smoke.

Squeeze.

Even the officer is in discomfort, forced to bend forward perpendicularly because the train's frame could not accommodate the extra height of the overhead antenna on his back. "How do they manage to put Tesla Troopers on the trans-Siberian railway?"

The train then began to zoom forth to the next station. The suit came with everything...but air conditioning, and the intake ducts were being blocked by some fat guy's fat. Breathing through the open porthole was bad enough because he was bending over, and could smell little more than the stale air near the floor. The train's air conditioning was not adequate either, and the officer sweated as hell. It was that bad.

The other commuters in the train couldn't move either, having been displaced by some fool foolhardy enough to fit his Tesla suit inside the train. And oddly, the train itself isn't moving anymore after it hit a snag in the rails. As well as the vehicles beneath it; they were powered down as well. Odd.

"Curse this EM Disruptor. The Tesla reactor is _that_ badly damaged? Wait a while, I'm trying to override it from outside the sut...yeah...got it..WHOOMP!"

With the whole suit powered down, the bionic suit could not support itself. Underneath the suit, a bunch of guys are holding up the Tesla suit torso for dear life, while the officer's back broke a bit. But the train was running again.

Getting into the train was the easy part. Getting out...now that's for another chapter.


	43. New Unit: Lapu Lapu Vessel

"This is Commander Mabini here, requesting reinforcements. We can't quite fly out of this predicament we are in, and more and more Japanese ships are arriving here. How many hours left before the Psionic Decimator activates?"

"Hi, we're Command! :3 You still there fighting? The Decimator has been annihilated some days back. How the hell did you stay up there?"

"Ever tried fishing with airship mooring cables in the middle of a naval firefight? Send help, please!"

High Command looked at the dilapidated ships of the Philippine Navy. "Hmm, we may have problems with that. Let's see if we could send something. Bear Cavaliers? No, they'd be shot up by Sky-Wings. Martels...er, they'd be crushed by Naginatas. _Basta_!"

The Philippines in real life, as well as in the story, is an archipelago. And for an archipelago of 7,107 islands and a coast/area-ratio-by-coastline-length product (if that made any sense) second only to that of Canada's especially convoluted coastline, the Philippines always lacked a proper navy despite almost half of the seamen in our world being Filipinos. Indeed, even a relatively weak Canadian navy would be forgivable because it would be too much to ask for that navy to defend the three oceans adjacent to it, while having excess land to pull back in case of invasion anyway. The Philippines had no such excuse; with little land and a total territory so small as to be easily patrolled by PT boats, the only way that the Philippines could properly fend off an attack is by inefficient air strikes in typhoon-prone skies, or bloody hand-to-hand jungle warfare with little room for maneuver. Conversely, the Philippine Navy could use the vast surrounding seas as a battleground in which it could break invasion fleets. But alas, the Philippines is not like that in real life. Not so in this universe either, based on the amount of damaged, half-sunk fishing boats littered around the coastline.

No one noticed it though, but the decrepit fishing boats have slowly and quietly been leaving port, one by one. Rebuilt to hold sailors, engines, sound systems, and the vital snorkels, they have become a sort of interim 'submarine', with its buoyancy being achieved by continually pumping water out in such a way that it floats underwater, and that at barely. And surprisingly for a raised fishing vessel, it doesn't slowly trundle; it actually sails quickly, towards the epic weeks-long battle where the Air Fleet for Operation Lukso has been stuck, situation gone awry.

"So, Mr. Filipino Captain, why did you ask for my help, and promote me to second-in-command, in this battered old fishing vessel?"

"Ah, Aleksei, that's because you are a skilled submariner. You served in the elite Akula-class 331 submarine, am I right?"

"Yes, but I still don't see how my skill as a submariner could help your fishing boat in its, er, 'mission' to relive your friends from a massive IJN attack. And...is this ship sinking?"

"Yes, it is, and the ship's name is BRP Lapu-Lapu (PS/UW-92). May we enter the ship now?"

Aleksei gives an astonished look as to the ridiculous naming conventions for the ship, as well as the equally ridiculous response of the captain in the first place."I know the captain goes down with the ship, but you should at least give the order to 'Abandon Ship' first!"

The captain drags the submariner into the ship, towards a small watertight door. Climbing down the door, the submariner sees that the fishing vessel had some sort of submarine alter-ego. The captain sits down in his comfortable chair, and plans the route to take, taking advice from the Soviet submariner whose government had secretly charted Philippine waters before the war. The monotonous noise was broken by the sonarman.

"Captain, an element of the Imperial Japanese fleet spotted. Specifically, it's a.. lone... Naginata."

"Go roughly where they are, and then surface to fire torpedoes. Submarine basics, Filipino captain."

"Don't! Aleksei, I know that you professional submariners Soviet and Japanese prefer to surface every so often just to fire torpedoes, but frankly that is stupid. There is no point using a submarine to sink a battleship when you have to surface to fire, getting yourself open to retaliation. By God, I thought the Great War of 1914-1918 made that obvious! And besides, we have no torpedoes!"

"WHAT? So what will you Filipinos do, pound their hulls with hammers?"

"Close enough. Navigator, travel close to the ship, at its stern. And don't worry about its torpedoes, their sonar won't find us."

Aleksei growled. "And then WHAT?"

"Relax comrade. Aleksei, meet Charice. She would be our weapons girl for this mission."

"Good. What weapons Mr. Filipino Captain? And what about the Naginata's sonar?"

"Charice could take care of it. Here's a hint, Ukrainian: sound travels faster in water."

Charice was a young girl who was already on the verge of becoming an international singer in Hollywood when Ackerman joined the war against the Soviets. The demand for pop songs in Hollywood then dropped, replaced by what has been termed 'Patriotic rock-n-roll' or 'Liberty Rockin'. The European nations were too busy being besieged to provide the aspiring pop star her big break, and the Soviets were content with their ominous Russian chanting. Now, her singing skills are put to use in the naval arm of the Philippine Constabulary, where she would sing, to great effect, to the Filipino fishing sub and its Japanese Naginata cruiser prey.

Meanwhile, in the Naginata, its sonarman notices something.

"I think, I could make out something, it seems to be a sub. Class unidentifiable, but surely it's not anything we know of before."

"Impossible. There is no way the Russians could reach this far, and the Allies are too afraid of the deep. No gaijin could possibly deploy a sub here. It must be seismic activity."

"I disagree sir. I think I could hear...singing...is that the 'Like a Pyramid' song?"

And true enough, it is. Charice is singing her song, in the Filipino fishing sub, which is then transmitted to speakers around the ship, increasing noise and somehow hiding the Filipinos in a noisy sea. Furthermore, her singing is further amplified at special speakers fore and aft of the sub, creating disturbances in the water waves akin to a Dolphin; somewhat Like A Pyramid...being stabbed down the hull.

"...And even when the wind is blowing  
>We'll never fall just keep on going<br>Forever we will stay, like a pyramid..."

The Naginata's hull creaks and cracks as a barrage of pop music batters it, popping pipes and undoing nanometal welds.

"Aaargh! Overwhelming...octaves...must...pinpoint...source. Sir! Gaijin at...five o'clock general direction...music too powerful to the equipment and my ears. Wait! I got the sound..AAH I've lost it again in that stanza! Hunting for a submarine in a song-filled sea is driving me crazy!"

The Japanese sonarman then throws away his headphones. The Naginata fires torpedoes blindly in the general direction of the song, but the torpedoes either miss and detonate safely, or prematurely detonate as they are vulnerable to the sonic pulses as well. But then, no defense is perfect and sometimes torpedoes get through, and one such smashed through the fishing sub's superstructure. Filipino engineers scramble to contain the damage since fishing vessels still don't absorb torpedoes well, even if they are rebuilt, and especially if they are submerged. Charice still sings, redoubling her efforts to destroy the enemy ship, throw off other torpedoes, and inspire her fellow seamen to patch up the fishing vessel-submarine.

"Like a pyramid, Like a pyramid eh (ooh)  
>Like a pyramid, Like a pyramid eh (ooh)"<p>

The Naginata's boilers began to tumble down inside the hull as they are shaken off their mountings. Its crew barely hangs on as lights randomly break, pipes randomly leak, windows randomly shatter, and even armor plates randomly pop out. The torpedoes inside the hold then detonate one by one, and a massive hole at the aft begins to fill with water. The bulkheads quickly fill, and soon enough seawater shorts out the main electrical system. The pumps then shut down for a while as emergency generators, badly shaken as well, are being restarted with great difficulty. Finally, the Type-S torpedoes detonate in a horrifying blast that sent a fifth of the ship flying. Simply, the Naginata was eliminated.

"Captain! The Naginata is sunk...oh, wait...I detect Sky-Wings."

"I'd be, if those aircraft come to the Aurora Transports they may be wiped out. Surface quickly now! Ready all anti-aircraft and shoot those things out of the sky!"

"Excuse me, Captain, but your submarine has anti-aircraft capability as well? We in Russia never do that..."

"Er, not really Aleksei, they are just small-arms. Flak cannons, Javelins, Danaos; just anything we could get from the armories, really. Now stay down here and supervise the engineers on their repairs; we're quite damaged!"

Soon the skies were alight with anti-air and small-arms fire as the BRP Lapu-Lapu, the lead ship of her class, is joined by other ships of her class, they having gotten to the battlefield faster because, as fishing boats, they were made to travel originally while floating, not submerged. The hail of bullets surprised the Sky-Wings, who then engaged the Lapu-Lapus. Despite being continually ripped apart, the crews manning their small-arms kept firing on even faster, inspired by their weapons girls' singing clubbing music in choir-like unison. Two of the boats were destroyed as the Sky-Wings' rounds raked their decks and tore more holes than the emergency pumps can handle, while five more boats were forced to crash dive for emergency underwater repair as their crews patched the holes with spare metal sheets, crumpled blankets, and their own fists. The Sky-Wings, on the other hand, barely escaped the ambush of the Lapu-Lapus, with the most unfortunate being a couple of Sky-Wings that transformed to Sea-Wing mode to evade their opponents, only for both to be blasted apart by the BRP Ayungin and their weapons girl's rendition of Celine Dion classics. Ouch.

Soon the wolfpack hounded incoming Shogun Battleships joining the fray. Despite being submerged merely ten meters at most due to air pressure fouling up snorkels at greater depths, the Lapu-Lapus were able to fire at the Shoguns with impunity, having a depth just slightly greater than the Shogun's draft, and thus able to avoid being rammed by the twin hulls. The majestic main guns of the Shogun could not depress enough to target those pesky vessels with snorkels sticking out, while being rocked apart by the power of Filipino girl rock blasting at their hulls. Needless to say, the IJN had to call in Naginata Cruisers and Sea-Wings away from Commander Mabini's airships, but when the reinforcements arrived the Shoguns were already capsizing, burning from ruptured fuel lines, or downright broken apart while the Lapu-Lapus sped away, afloat.

**In-game Unit Profile:** Lapu-Lapu-class Vessel

**Designation:** Anti-ship submarine/Anti-everything-else support ship  
><strong>Training Headquarters:<strong> Cavite Naval Shipyard  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Naval Shipyard

**Accessories:**  
>» Snorkel<br>» Fore and aft amplified Sonic Disruptors  
>» Surround-sound Speakers<br>» Various small-arms, including Danaos (Bear Cavalier), Javelins (Javelin Trooper), and Voronitas (Tirradores)  
>» Leftover fish<p>

**History:**

The Philippine Navy seems to have never made its own ship, despite the fact that most of the mariners are Filipinos and that there are a number of shipyards already here in the Philippines. As such, even the Philippine Constabulary had no ship of its own, and had to rely on refitting fishing boats so badly damaged that the best way to use them is to use them _submerged_. As the Constabulary had no extra torpedoes to arm the submerging ships, and that conventional cannons tend to be too complicated to use underwater, they had to rely on technology taken from Allied Dolphins. Of course, not anymore constrained by the small profile of the marine mammal, the Sonic Disruptor unit has been taken up to eleven, and with recorded dolphin sounds found to be below expectations, they tapped on the pool of singers to operate the Sonic Disruptor instead. The result was amazing: the massive potential of the Filipinos for singing was not anymore wasted on drunken nights in KTV bars; they were being used to shatter target boats directly. But more importantly, they were discovered to inspire fellow seamen who, being adrift in giant metal boxes out at sea with all its psychological implications, tend to be more inspired by the music; the fresh singing affects those at sea more than their landlocked or airborne comrades. This meant that, despite a general trend in the Philippine Constabulary to attach any support system to any platform and making it work as in the case of the Spyglass Target Designator, this support system was bound to work only on ships. Pity, really.

Also significant is the discovery of the simple speakers to actually break apart torpedoes and shells in the water, something not achieved on land due to the relative density of water compared to air. Still another benefit found is that continuous, incessant singing tends to muffle out the relative sound of the Lapu-Lapu itself, making it "twinkle" on SONAR, reappearing and disappearing, making it invisible every so often, very annoying making it hard to properly target with homing torpedoes and the like. Quite simply, tweaking the Sonic Disruptor gave so much additional affects to it that the Philippine Constabulary's High Command was wondering what held back the whole Allied body from discovering these things.

Now with a formidable weapon against invaders, and torpedoes, and enemy detection, and boredom out at sea, mounted in a nice frame that could stay submerged forever even while firing against feared capital ships, the naval arm of the Philippine Constabulary knew it finally had a workhorse ship. Add some man-portable weapons just in case it had to and it could bring in extra firepower as well against surface and even air targets as well, but only when it is not submerged. Indeed, the Voronita double-barreled sniper gun, issued to Tirradores, could even give it firepower and range akin to the best that any nation's flagship could do, allowing the relatively small Lapu-Lapu to do the role of long-range bombardment normally reserved for proud surface ships of other navies.

It still had its weaknesses of course: it was not exactly what one would call "armored", and despite its amazing ability to fling off the majority of attacks that could hit it underwater, above water the ship could still be damaged by small-arms fire, let alone the bullets of pesky Sky-Wings or the feared, superheated slugs of a Shogun. Even Tsunami Tanks could destroy the ship if its captain, or the commander, would be careless enough to not let it submerge.

Overall, the solid design of its weapon systems manage to undo the structural weaknesses of the salvaged vessel it is housed in, as the Philippine Constabulary could not afford to design and build its own ships. However, they did decide on the name of the class, and the nature of the vessel as part-submarine, part-ship meant difficulty in naming the ship. Finally they came up with Lapu-Lapu, it being the name of a national hero befitting a surface combatant vessel like itself, as well as Lapu-Lapu being the name of a local fish too, and thus suited for naming Philippine submarines, like itself.

**Game unit:**

It is a submarine that could surface; in fact that is its special ability. When submerged it could attack ships continuously without surfacing, and even do so while facing rearwards in case of a sudden retreat. Additionally, most damage to the ship is nullified, but when damage is dealt it is dealt fully against the paper-thin armor of the submarine. When submerged it also tends to disappear every now and then in the enemy's sonar as well, making targeting of the ship very difficult.

When afloat, the crew inside readies their infantry weapons including the infamous Voronita, for long-range bombardment, anti-aircraft duties, and general surface-target-elimination, while still attacking with the Sonic Disruptor and still nullifying most torpedoes. However this leaves the ship and its pathetic armor open to the fury of surface attack such as that of an Assault Destroyer's round, which would now _always_ hit. Which made sense, really, because it is ridiculously cheap to get these and their sunken-fishing-boat frames.

The ship, submerged or not, still acts like a Generals' Speaker Tower, augmenting regeneration rates and increasing attack speed and damage of any allied ships in the vicinity including any swimming Martels or Bear Cavalry. Needless to say, it still auto-repairs, and ever now and then a ship captain may find a spare tank gun here or Spyglass designator or Sunburst Drone, or extra armor plating, adding to the variety of Lapu-Lapus that tend to be fielded.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Dolphin_ - Deriving most of its abilities from technologies meant to improve Allied Dolphin usefulness in wartime, the Lapu-Lapu gets a more powerful variation of the Dolphin's attack, plus a version of the mammal's jump-away-from-danger ability in the form of a point-defense-sonic-pulse-biatch for use against underwater ordnance. Also, dolphins are social creatures, like the crew of the Lapu-Lapu-class vessels. In the company of allied ships, the Speaker Tower-like ability of the Lapu-Lapu both submerged and not, makes it a great team player. Sociable, no?

_Devilfish_ - Devilfish swim silently. Similarly, submerged Lapu-Lapus tend to be silent on radar until detected on sonar, and even on sonar they still disappear every now and then. Even more devilishly, the Lapu-Lapu, unlike its Soviet and Japanese contemporaries, does not need to surface to attack, just like ordinary fish and proper submarines of our universe.

_Archerfish_ - The Lapu-Lapu can surface to unleash its motley crew and their infantry weapons, which given that this is Filipino infantry weapons, could do anti-aircraft, anti-surface, and even long-range bombardment. They tend to be more vulnerable to surface fire though.

_Pa-TING! (Shark)_ - Contrary to the onomatopoeic pun on the Filipino term for the shark (which coincidentally is _Akula_ in Russian), the Lapu-Lapu is not at all tough like the Akula. Submerged it could fend off any attacks against it particularly well, even killing torpedoes meant for other ships on the odd chance. However, it is not quite capable of absorbing much damage otherwise, though to make up for such a random survivability of the craft, the ships could be deployed with other random weapons and abilities like Spyglasses, EMP, extra missile racks, tank guns, or even extra armor plating. All to make the random survivability of the craft even having random applications.


	44. Time For Other Times

**_Toyama High Command HQ_**

"Emperor, I have sad news concerning the fates of our Floating Fortresses. The North Sea and the Gibraltar Floating Fortresses are...gone. The Americans have already taken several islands at the Pacific, and if the Shinobi are correct then they may use Chronospheres to strike at us directly. Cowardly, as would be expected from gaijin, but a threat nonetheless."

The Emperor sipped his cup of tea. "Chronospheres. Tell me more about these...Chronospheres."

"Certainly Emperor. Chronospheres are devices developed by FutureTech to teleport vehicles, theoretically, to anywhere they like. Even as we speak they may just teleport a Guardian Tank on top of us all, but that would be unlikely. This is because our Shinobi network in the Philippines has collected scattered scratch papers by a certain Dr. Einstein, describing the inadequacies of this Chronosphere. For example, according to this Mr. Einstein, to teleport a strike team directly at Moscow the Chronosphere must be built off the Florida Keys, which is ridiculously close to the Soviets at Cuba. Point Hope in Alaska is also a good place to deploy a Chronosphere for a truly global range, but our sources indicate that Allied presence there is nil, because maybe it's too cold and isolated. There, however, is another problem.

Crown Prince Tatsu squints his eyes more. "Problem, Miss Toyama?"

"Well, sir, we have run Mr. Einstein's equations through our mainframes, and according to it the most likely place to locate a Chronosphere within range of Tokyo itself is in the Philippines, which as you may know, has not been fully conquered. We may have blocked out all radio activity from the islands which is why the resistance could not ask for help from either the Allies or the Soviets, but dissent there is...ridiculously effective. As we speak, their capital city of Manila remains unconquered, and once they manage to ask for assistance from the Allies we could have..."

The cup of tea shattered in the Emperor's hand. "Those three bumbling idiots. They were supposed to mow down Philippines before proceeding to occupy Australia, and now all they've done is request for more reinforcements! Intelligence Officer Suki Toyama, transfer more elite home guard units to the Philippine front. And my son, get me in touch with our agent there in the Philippines. Tell that boy that I, as Emperor of the Empire of the Rising Sun, am now putting him in charge of every and all Imperial Japanese forces at and en route to the Philippines, effective immediately. We could not let those gaijin collaborate against us! No invader has ever stepped foot on Japan, and none ever will!"

"But father, don't you think that diverting elite home guard units would be too risky if the Allies decide to deploy a Chronosphere at Alaska and teleport forces from there?"

"My son, if you were to be emperor of this empire someday, you must learn... to take off...that ridiculous breastplate of yours. If you see a chance for a critical thrust and you are encumbered with your body armor, then by all means remove it.. Once that archipelago falls firmly at our grasp, no Allied strike team could touch _any_ of our home islands! Now go there and add an additional Shogun Executioner to the Philippine invasion force. Those islands are just rebellious members of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, and as such is considered Japan's backyard. Now go."

At this, Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_ is mobilized to transport its elite Japanese home guard forces to the Philippines. The Battlebase's home guard Shogun Executioner is also deployed to serve as a breakthrough weapon. At the same time though, the European Allies are having a similar conference.

**_Multiple locations in Europe [teleconference]_**

"Miss Weaver, are you telling us that highly advanced FutureTech technologies are present in the Philippines, and that we may have lost them to the Japanese? What exactly is this...technology you are talking about?"

"Highly classified industry secret, Mr. Thornley. Let us just say that leaving it in Japanese hands could wreak havoc on our stocks once a Japanese zaibatsu manages to get hold of it."

"So, at this, you would like an Allied strike team to secure a slice of the Philippines, and God-knows what's in there since we could not pick up any communication from that place. On top of that, the strike team must act half-blind, not knowing anything about what exactly they are supposed to capture. Do you understand the price that your industrial secrecy is putting on us?"

"Yes. But it would still be better - and safer - for them to not know what is in that facility."

"I understand, Miss Weaver. At the very least, give us some details on this...facility of yours."

"Very well Mr. Thornley. We have already sent you the coordinates of the island facility. This island will not show on radar or GPS; we have built it to be as stealthy as possible and as such is shrouded by multiply Gap Generators. At such a far-out location the Japanese would not even think of diverting their forces to scout for that island. And if they ever managed to land there, the facility itself is located underground; its only entrance being very well-camouflaged. The facility itself contains only the FutureTech device of our concern and its automated maintenance systems, employing actual personnel would be too costly for such a simple prototype project. In my personal opinion, the Japanese are very unlikely to spot it, and the only problem we have is that the device seems to have broken its transponder."

"I see. Now can you tell me why your corporation placed such a device there in the Philippines, of all places, in a place where there are Soviets, and now Japanese, enemies?"

"That location is the best place for such a prototype to actually work, Mr. Thornley. As the Philippine government back then was very accommodating to both Soviets and Americans renting their place, my superiors have given a go signal for the project to proceed as planned; it was only the belligerence of the Empire of the Rising Sun that put the facility at risk..."

"So what, exactly, does your corporation want?"

"A strike team to establish a permanent presence in the Philippines, to secure the device and hopefully repair its transponder. I personally assure you that this mission would certainly be worth the effort, if the potential of the Philippine Islands project comes to fruition."

**_The aforementioned island in the Philippines_**

"Brigadir Giniral Riynaldo, arr you sure you'd like to land at that island? It fiils weird, to have an island appear in the 1934 Philippine map, but not in the latest map, and not in our radar sir."

"I don't care! Must be high tide or something when they charted that. Just…land the plane will you?"

The airplane mechanic/Spectrum cannon gunner/duct tape guy looked at the lieutenant, who was rather bored in this reconnaissance mission. He knew he was the third wheel in this operation, being assigned there by General Puno who suspected that the Brigadier General and the Lieutenant were having a…controversial activity for a conservative country like the Philippines. "What's with the giniral, madam?"

The lieutenant looks at the third guy, and exasperatedly replies "So you can pronounce 'Philippine' correctly, but not 'general'? Why…I don't know too. Maybe something in his coffee went stale."

The brigadier general snapped back "Oh yes you are right there, this tiny plane has no proper toilet and I'm the only one that could pilot this plane! Now do you know why I'm so harried?"

The Lamok finally lands on the phantom island, with the brigadier general quickly jumping out of the plane with a bottle of water and some soap, muttering to himself about the quality of creamer. Strangely for a deserted island, there is a portable toilet on that very patch where they landed, so instead of simply 'deploying' where he stood the brigadier general quickly ran over to the mysterious portalet, with disregard for any risks of using a well-placed mysterious portalet on a phantom island out in the middle of the sea. The lieutenant primly straightens her uniform, while the third guy just looks at the lieutenant. Even with the bored look on her face the officer still is pretty, and the brigadier general still not that very old; General Puno may have a point.

From the portalet the flushing of an enigmatic toilet bowl can be heard. Then there was a weird hissing sound, followed by a bunch of other muffled mechanical sounds. A shout of seeming distress them emerged from the mysterious portalet. The lieutenant then scrambled out of the aircraft towards the mysterious portalet, leaving the third guy behind with the command "Guard this airplane!"

The brigadier general finally emerged from the portalet, took off his aviator sunglasses, and exclaimed "Mother of God." The lieutenant took one tiny little peek inside the portalet, and having seen what her superior have seen, just looked at the general. The third guy looked at both of them. It was a rather tense moment.

"Quick! We must contact General Puno about this!"


	45. Turi's Revenge

Two Chrono Legionnaires were zapping various enemies with their neutron rifles.

"Hey buddy, have you ever wondered what happens to our enemies after we zap them?"

"I dunno buddy. Look, you're the one that's going to college for a degree in theoretical physics, not me."

"Really? But you're going to college too, right?"

"Yeah, but not theoretical physics. I'm just studying philosophy. So, how does it feel to know that our guns are designed by you physics-type dudes' idol Dr. Einstein?"

"It's okay, though personally I think Dr. Einstein is overrated. Not to say anything against the good doctor, but I feel that he is taking away way too much star power from other deserving and capable theoretical physicists, like Dr. Zelinsky. Pity Zelinsky is red. So, buddy, how's your college life?"

"My college life? Nasty. I thought I was going to just shoot through with this course, but this guy, this one professor guy Mr. Carpio...no one leaves his classroom dazed."

"Yeah, I heard about that Carpio guy. They say his lectures can get you even more high than a whole pound of weed! I tried listening to his discourses once, and it was then that I learned to appreciate the difficulties of theoretical physics. At least I'm not disbelieving myself in my studies, splitting myself into multiple identities, and all those things. You heard what they say about him?"

"Oh yes I do. Some say he is from another dimension altogether. Some say he is the guy holding entire multiverses together. Still others say that the entire universe is just his mind's playground. Pretty high calling for some Filipino immigrant, if you ask me. I'm just a philosophy major."

"Yeah, whatever. So what do you think about whatever we are zapping with our Chrono-guns? What happens to them? My theoretical physics professor tells me that maybe they travel through wormholes to another universe, then tries to prove it but then nothing makes sense to me. How about your course, what do they think about it?

"My other professors are just like 'meh' on the topic, but I remember Carpio ranting about them. I can't even remember what he said, but what I know is that I had a splitting headache for 3 weeks after I tried to comprehend what that mad philosopher just said."

The enemies, hordes of mind-controlled Soviets under the sway of various Yuri clones, were then all chrono-ed out of existence as the Psychic Dominator Disaster comes to a close. The nearby Yuri base was also chrono-ed out of existence, demonstrating the use of Einstein's neutron rifle as the weapon of the future: able to painlessly eliminate foes, allowing more humane warfare to take place. Or does it? What exactly goes on when being zapped?

A nameless V3 Launcher driver knows. Being mind-controlled is very difficult, with the very sanctity of your own private thoughts being played with by a madman you dared not enter your house, much less your mind. The driver's mind, and more importantly, his body, and thus his weapon, is under Yuri's control. But somewhere down the deep, dark recesses of the controlled human mind a voice, the driver's voice, is crying out, trying to fight back the daze he is in, even in the subconsciousness of his own mind. Having but a brief glimmer of the outside through his senses he could perceive his body operating the rocket launcher, pointing it at his comrades, friends, loved ones. And as a Chrono Legionnaire blasts the whole truck he is in, his body is frozen, but his mind is inextricably warped temporally around itself, permanently, as universe after universe and timeline after timeline slams against his mind in that perpetual instant he is being zapped. In the end, the V3 Launcher driver ends up dead, all identity, personality, history, psychology gone, having passed on to communist heaven. But his truck exists on, in some odd abandoned laboratory filled with other zapped units Soviet, Yuri, and even rogue or mind-controlled Allied. Despite being deployed late in the war, Chrono Legionnaires were able to zap almost any kind of weapon throughout the Great World War, even including the Psychic Dominator Disaster, and all these structures and units zapped are trapped in a bubble of nothingness, a nothingness that FutureTech has begun to insert a straw into, and sip from. From that nothingness emerged these units, and it was by chance that Brigadier General Reynaldo was able to spot this facility which has become virtually a landfill for highly potent equipment from another timeline, another universe, all retrieved from their non-existent state by one of FutureTech's smaller projects; especially when compared to FutureTech's Proton Collider technology and the funding for it, this multiversal-retrieval device of theirs was just merely peanuts.

Despite this, the device is immensely powerful, drawing stuff from the nihilum itself where Dr. Einstein's chrono-guns have carelessly disposed of its targets. For the Filipinos who have discovered it, however, it was FREE GUNZ and they were in charge of it. All of it. ALL of it.

And in that single moment, some papers began to flutter away to a hole on the side of the island. The lieutenant caught the papers, while the brigadier general covered the hole with a metal panel. In the papers are details concerning a massive tunnel to nearby Mindanao, terminating near an abandoned FutureTech facility there which the local Constabulary has taken to fortifying. The remoteness of the location meant that the Japanese have not even seen the garrisoned inland FutureTech facility, much less the island base. As a bonus, the inland facility's Chronosphere has been repaired, which had allowed the remote garrison to do hit-and-run attacks while keeping its existence a secret to the Japanese.

"General Puno, I think you'll like what we have discovered..."


	46. New Year, New Command Chain

**_Toyama High Command HQ_**

"Father, our agent in the Philippines is on the line."

The screen is still static. It then clears up a little, but the image is grainy; certainly not what one would wish to present to the future Emperor of the Greater World Co-Prosperity Sphere. A kid shows up on screen.

"Emperor, sorry if the image is grainy. I can't get a clear message; the Japanese invasion force in the Philippines have set up comm-disruptor beacons to prevent the Filipinos from requesting help from the outside. Unfortunately sir, a comm-disruptor beacon is destroyed by local resistance..."

"Agent, how could local resistance destroy a sea-based communications disruptor beacon? And what happened to Manila? I haven't been receiving communications from those oafs in command of the invasion there either."

"My Emperor, the resistance have aircraft of their own design, and a sneaky navy as well. Manila remains untouched ever since the first days of the invasion, and I fear that we have run into a stalemate. Our soldiers are demoralized in here, expecting an easier fight...and why did you contact me in the first place, emperor?"

"Agent, I have decided to take those islands whole, for defense of the home islands. It seems that our enemy the Allies have teleportation devices that could send entire armies to strike at any city in our islands, if they manage to deploy a chronosphere in there. You will have to take command from those in charge there; I don't really trust the Japanese military officer corps' decision to send them current officers there to manage the invasion. It seems my fears are well-founded."

"Why, thank you for the duty, emperor."

"And I know that my incompetent subjects have depleted your invasion force, is it not? Worry not, we are sending the elite home guard units of Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_, with its Shogun Executioner, under your command as well. Take your units from the Philippines invasion force as well, all of it is under your command. Use force against mutinous elements of the Imperial Army if necessary. And more importantly. Take. Those. Islands. I am counting on you, Dr. Saiko; don't fail me."

"Yes, emperor!"

_**Philippine Invasion Force High Command HQ**_

Dr. Saiko walks into the headquarters straight into the command room rather rudely, with an air of confidence, even arrogance, not expected of supposedly humble unarmed auxiliaries like his contemporary the Imperial Engineer. With the doctor is the Yuriko clone, with a large grin on her face caused by having a crush on Dr. Saiko, exacerbated by the drugs he is injecting into her.

"I'm taking control over this operation, and all forces committed to it, in the name of the emperor."

The three commanders looked up from the map. Commander Ninja (not his real name) looks at the child prodigy, whose only task, as far as the commander cared, was to put down that Yuriko clone he hated so much.

"What are you talking about, kid? Have you gone psycho, Saiko? (Sorry, I just can't avoid mentioning that pun.) Go back to your quarters now, can't you see we're busy?"

"As I have said, Commander Ninja, I am commanded by the emperor himself to supersede all of you."

"Oh really, my boy. You little rascal, I don't know what drugs you have injected into yourself, but you sure as hell won't be taking me away from my assignment on such short notice. Back to your quarters, now!"

Dr. Saiko looks at the Yuriko clone, stroking her hair. "You know what to do.", whispered the doctor to Yuriko. He then gives her a peck on the cheek.

Yuriko's eyes subtly glowed, and the commander's DevilCoat suddenly crumples inwards due to Yuriko's drug-enhanced psionic abilities, unhampered by giving life to the soil-Yuriko effigies of herself. Dr. Saiko looks at the rest of the officers. "I hope that would be an example enough of what I would do to anyone that disagrees with me, and the Emperor."

The unremarkable commander speaks up. "But...you aren't even a part of the Imperial Army! How could you possibly even _know_ how to command?"

"Because the emperor says so, then I shall command." Dr. Saiko replies, before shooting the unremarkable commander in the head. "You're so unremarkable, you won't be missed anyway, _commander._"

With two commanding officers already eliminated, Admiral 898 is left alone. "1010. Er, doctor, or should I say commander, Saiko, shouldn't you be giving us proof of the transfer in command? 1012."

The boy commander blushes a bit. "Oh, yeah, whoops. Here is a recording; it was barely able to make it past the comm-disruptor array."

The unremarkable officer manages to speak a little more. "So...you killed two commanding officers of the Imperial Japanese Army without even showing us _that_?"

"So, you're still able to talk even if you were shot to the head? Nonetheless, invasion planning must commence at the soonest possible time; are you with me, Admiral?"

"1010. Yes. 1011."

"Are you with me, Commander Ninja...er...maybe not anymore. That was surely fatal. Other commander dude?"

The unremarkable commander's eyes just stares at the new commander, spookily, hauntingly. "I'm...dying."

At that moment Imperial Warriors storm the command room, having heard the sound of a pistol and the manly cry of an Imperial commander being injected with a superheated slug to the head.

"Now, all of you, I am Commander Saiko. DON'T JUST STAND THERE, THAT OFFICER GUY IS DYING!"

The Imperial Warriors panic. What could have been one of the tensest, most badass scenes in this fanfic breaks down into a confused mix of other doctors rushing in helping the unremarkable officer, with other Imperial Warriors giving clumsy post-traumatic talks to the witnesses: a robotic war-weary admiral, a boy prodigy who has seen and even performed unspeakable human experimentation, and a once-angsty, once-emo psionic junkie.

In the conundrum, no one noticed the crumpled out-of-place ornamental garden guardian, and the commander inside. The next day Commander Ninja found himself in a junkyard outside the base, dead, his suit being carried away by stealthy Filipino Engineeros in a truck for technological salvaging.

"But how is this possible? I'm dead, and I know I'm dead! I should have already been dead since when I first made a base in this emperor-forsaken country! Now how could I know that I'm dead, if I'm already dead and I know it?"

"You think, therefore you are. The You, the thinking entity, has been said to transcend the limitations of its body, and in your case, seems to have entered your suit's subdermal UI."

The ninja commander-thinking entity 'squints' a little, peering into what may be his own allusions and illusions. "Turiano...Carpio?"

"Perhaps, but perhaps not quite. There are many thinking entities who carry that name, to each entity his own moment, from each entity his own identity. And with each, perhaps his own contribution to the war effort. But I digress. Now, tell me what you know of this...Commander Saiko I am reading from your mind's eyes, and the composition of the forces lumped under his command, and if you wish, your childhood."

The Turiano Carpio-like philosophizing entity then 'stares' at the ninja commander-thinking entity, who is now being swallowed into greater, higher, deeper thoughts. A faint recording of "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo..." could be heard by the Engineeros from the crumpled DevilCoat suit, oblivious to the extra-rational philosophical occurrences inside the suit.


	47. Speyeder

Imperial Army Morale-Raiser Party again. Commander Saiko's sudden usurpation of power from the former 'Triumvirate' of Admiral 898, Commander Ninja (not his real name), and the other commander has destabilized the chain of command, with the remaining Japanese troops in Southern Luzon getting restive. Commander Saiko's sudden and daring power grab revitalized the soldiers' morale, who were expecting the new commander to call for a final thrust against the centralized Filipino forces in the same audacious manner by which he took command. The Japanese soldiers were being too impatient though; despite all Japanese troops being withdrawn from the Visayas and the Mindanao at great haste some Southern Luzon soldiers have already advanced prematurely towards Manila without care for if they survive or not. The rekindled zeal for the emperor, coupled with a chance to release their frustration and a general willingness to just _die_ honorably to get out of this accursed tropical front has driven them to fight intensely. Even in the penny-packet forces that they move out from base, silently disobeying Commander Saiko's forces to stay put and wait for reinforcements, their sheer desperation for combat, for retribution, for death had led to bloody skirmishes with border Constabulary units, dealing disproportionate damage to the defenders. Despite the effectiveness of the attacks, Dr. Saiko dislikes disobedience and lack of discipline in his troops; the Japanese Army's tactic is to rely on each other to function properly in the art of combined-arms, and those penny-packet attacks are just draining him of vital units.

Which is why there is another Imperial Army Morale-Raiser Party again. Not to stoke up divine Japanese morale for use against their foes, but rather to cool them down enough to obey orders. What use is a Beam Katana when it is too hot to wield?

"More lambanog, darling?"

"What drink is this..._hic..._it's stupidly sweet! I _hic_ want real sake! Now come closer, I want you to wipe off this nasty flavor with your tongue..."

The waitress, nicknamed Eye Queen for her big, somehow tantalizing eyes, never really liked hanging around with the Japanese. Once the barangay beauty queen/Maria Elena, the invaders have razed her small barangay, she being one of those few captured alive, forced to watch as insolent troops cut down her parents with searing hot Beam Katanas. Her fate was different though; rather than being executed by the xenophobic Japanese, her exotic beauty was put to good use by the invaders almost every waking hour. Serving drinks to drunk Japanese officials was much better, with verbal harassment and simple kisses and hugs being nothing compared to what she experienced months before. In fact, her place there at the 'topmost floor' is perhaps the best that a captured Filipino could expect from the Japanese. Other girls like her are serving, servicing the enemy, receiving little else but the barest necessities just to survive. Sometimes even the men who survive are put to the same purpose, now that the closet homosexual tendencies of some are finally free from the intolerant, scrutinizing society in the home islands. Brutality is expected here, for both sexes of all genders, as frustrations, personal tragedies, and all the other stresses of war pile down on the invaders' psyche - the captured comfort people is the only channel for all their personal rages. Homicide is unheard of; it is not common for two Japanese soldiers to fight because one has accidentally killed the other soldier's favorite comfort girl, or boy.

But the situation is different now. The Filipino-Soviet coalition under General Puno and Commander Ivan has broken the main Japanese base in a large Apocalypse Tank-spearheaded operation. Since comfort women were low on the list of "What To Take While Retreating From A Sudden Gaijin Attack", many of the captured comfort girls and boys were left behind in the ruins of the Japanese bays, either in prison cells, or suspended in cages, or bound, or whatever takes the fancy of a once-disciplined mind giving in by the horrors of war to repressed desires. Psychoanalysts had a field day studying the various positions in which the prisoners were. Eye Queen had survived largely unscathed, unlike her more scarred fellow prisoners, and was more than ready to give hell to the Japanese once she could just get hold of a gun. But the Constabulary saw that she was better employed as a spy, and what better disguise than as a comfort girl once again?

"Mmm hmmm..."

"mmm..._hic _sorry guys, but I really have to... rest..._hic_..."

Eye Queen leads the rather drunk officer to his quarters, the officer still somehow walking with a certain air of command. Had it not been for the smell of his breath, no one would have thought that he was really drunk, and so drunk that when he led, or rather was led, by Eye Queen to the more secret parts of the VIP bunker, he did not even bother. None of the other Imperial soldiers questioned him going to the restricted area with a Filipino comfort girl because he seemed sober enough, and inside the restricted areas there was only arrays upon arrays of computers; just another off-record escapade for the officer and the comfort girl. Even when Eye Queen was already reading his personal communications on his phone, he did not care, as the last traces of his consciousness was consumed by the sweet lambanog served. Who knew that the sweet arrack was that potent?

Finally, alone behind thumbprint-locked reinforced doors with an unconscious ranking Imperial officer, Eye Queen finds giant computers. She then pulls out her spy gadget disguised as a music player, looks for a USB port, and then accesses the mainframe. The Filipino hackers who designed the music player-like interface of the gadget were geniuses, and their program is far more stylish and user-friendly compared to the stereotypical hacker black-and-green Command Prompt that Eye Queen had expected from watching too much spy movies. In no time she found what she was looking for: a copy of the blueprints for a floating fortress. Her womanly intuition, with tantalizing hints from the officer's phone, told her that at least one such of these feared power projection vessels were sailing towards the Philippines. She began to download more blueprints, sending them via wireless in real time towards her Filipino contact far away behind the lines, when she heard the shuffle of footsteps. They were heavy steps, unusually for a VIP bunker, and the sounds of body armor hinted her that something went very wrong. She looked out the window, only to see a Burst Drone flashing lights, bumping again and again on the glass like a fly trying to enter a room. No! That Burst Drone must have picked up the frequencies of her wireless...

"Intruder! Get out of that room with your arms in the air!...The door's locked! Unlock it first then get out of the room, now!"

She's been spotted by the Burst Drone. Outside she could hear what seemed to be a pair of Japanese soldiers talking to each other, and then the humming of Beam Katana heaters, when suddenly one such feared blade pierced though the reinforced door.

"Aw great, you broke your katana. It's a reinforced door, idiot. Now does slipping an arm on your own broken blade hurt?"

"Shut up Ichiro. Just because you could make out with a hot Rocket Angel while the rest of us had only gaijin, doesn't mean that you can talk like that. For the emperor's sake, I'm wounded!"

"Then go to the infirmary. Do I have to deal with every infiltrator myself?"

Footsteps could be heard scurrying away, but she could still hear the hum of an activated Beam Katana. Eye Queen could not leave her transfer though; this is a very valuable information and if she is to die in there, at the very least she has sent what invaluable data she could. At the very least she could delay the Japanese mooks from interfering with the transfer. Finally, the door opened, the keypad having a Beam Katana stuck on it. The shadow of a single man could be seen as Eye Queen purses her lips and applies lipstick, then quickly packs up her purse.

"Halt! You, girl, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, sir, please help me. This officer led me here, and the next thing I knew, he suddenly fell asleep. I could not wake him."

"Idiot drunk gaijin girl, he's drunk too. Some officers really like to do their things with you _anywhere_. Now help me lift him, will you?"

"Oh sir, thank you!" She then pecks her on the neck, because she is a bit too short to reach his cheek. Some lipstick smeared on his armor.

"WHAT? I HAVE A WIFE, AND SHE'LL KILL ME!"

"But, but I did not mean to...it was just a nice kiss to thank you..."

"Aw shut up. Now excuse me woman, but I can't let my cherry blossom Maki think I am having relations with anybody, and _anybody_. Got that?" Ichiro then tries to wipe the offending lipstick mark on his armor, but fails. "Damn, do you use permanent marker as lipstick? Stay here while I wash myself up."

When Ichiro left, Eye Queen looked back towards the spy gadget she was hiding behind her. Transfer complete. She then pressed the Ctrl+Shift+Delete button on her gadget and unplugged it quickly from the mainframe. Mission accomplished.

Back at Constabulary headquarters, the High Command were being briefed of a suspicious moving island along the South China Sea.


	48. Oceanic Chrysanthemum

"High Command, you say you spotted an island moving towards our general direction? Now why would anybody carry along their own island when we have more than seven-thousand of them?"

"You have your orders captain. Just sail around and tell us if you manage to find the phantom island. You'll be alone in this mission though, most other Lapu-Lapu vessels are assigned around the central Philippine seas sinking Japanese transports by the dozens. Their weapon officers have been reported to be singing and sinking for quite some time, depleting our Strepsils supplies. We can't afford to lose this opportunity to deal massive casualties to the enemy just to reinforcing you."

Just then, a few kilometers away, the Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_ steams along the South China Sea, carrying its load of elite Japanese home guard units, determined to prevent the Allies from deploying a Chronosphere in the Philippines from which the gaijin can sneakily attack the Japanese home islands directly by teleporting their cowardly armies. The Battlebase's massive waterjet-propulsion system manages to give it a decent speed for such a large, squarish, unwieldy vessel, driven only by the largest reactor cores silently humming somewhere on the uniquely-designed platform. On top of it base defenses and numerous guards are seen patrolling the ship, walking around the gigantic Wave-Force triguns. Traveling without escorts due to the risk of sweeping them all away with its gigantic wash, the triguns, base defenses, and the guards are the Battlebase's only defense, and are the only defense it needs; the rest of its elite troops are stowed away inside the impregnable cabins of the ship, meditating or training, to be equipped at the Dojo or Mecha Bays only upon arrival within striking range of its target. Being elite does have its perks indeed: the best entertainment centers for Japanese people (outside of Japan, with the superlative being due to Japanese people liking only Japanese culture and thus only Japanese entertainment systems), food straight from home nano-refrigerated, and having the best equipment and training by which a true Japanese warrior can serve the nation. The Battlebase is only one form of how elite troops are more pampered than their less-skilled counterparts, and they are enjoying it.

While most of the soldiers were inside the vessel enjoying the amenities, Commodore Dohson stands on the leading corner, or bow, of the ship. Since navigation is already largely automated, he takes the time to enjoy being aboard the most powerful ship in the world (blissfully oblivious to the fact that the more powerful Floating Fortresses in the Atlantic were already sunk) as it powers down towards their target destination at the South China Sea. First Mate Bara walks up to him towards the prow, carrying a cup of coffee on a saucer.

"21 knots, sir."

The commodore just smiles at her, takes the coffee, and sips at it while looking far out the horizon. The Battlebase then steams closely into the path of a pack of patrolling Allied dolphins, the Japanese vessel closing in so quickly that the Wave-Force triguns were not able to aim at the Dolphins on time until the Dolphins were already near the bow of the Battlebase too close for the triguns to fire at. The Dolphins, far from being safe however, were in real risk of being either broken at the prow of the vessel, or sucked into the waterjet-propulsion system, and were swimming for dear life.

"Hey look look look, look look!" First Mate Bara points at one of the Allied Dolphins frantically swimming away from the ship. "See it?"

Another dolphin swims into view of the officers. The first mate gleefully points at the other Dolphin, exclaiming "There's another one. See 'em?"

The massive bow closes in on the Dolphins, cutting through water easily while threatening to do the same to the marine mammals. A Dolphin tries to use its special ability to evade the murderous ship, to which the first mate delightedly remarks "Look at that one, look, look, look at that jump! Wohohoo!"

Commodore Dohson watches his chirpy First Mate point at the Dolphins excitedly, and he remarks "I can see the Statue of Liberty already...burning of course."

The feeling of the breeze whipping up their faces, the feeling of being aboard the largest and most powerful ship afloat, the feeling of exhilaration in being able to crush enemies by sheer ramming, left the first mate with an emotion of grandeur. Finally, she lets it out, standing arms outstretched, shouting: "I'M THE KING OF THE WOOORLD!"

The guards looked at the First Mate in stunned silence. Did she just say blasphemy against the Emperor of Japan himself? First Mate Bara blushed upon the realization of what she said, and quietly hunched her back in embarrassment. The Commodore dismissed the guards, telling them to take to their duties of patrolling for infiltrators instead.


	49. An Emergent Feasible Faction

Japanese troops have just landed on Luzon, somewhere in the province of Quezon. Being stored in transports for weeks, under continuous harassment from teleporting Filipinos with crazy-new weapons the likes of which they have never seen nor thought of before. The sheer variety of weapons these resurgent Filipinos have was staggering: teleporting from giant hovercraft far ridiculously larger than the Allied Riptides, jury-rigged with heavy machine guns, flak cannons shooting _shrapnel_ _clouds_, at _infantry_, instead of typical Soviet heavy shells, disembarking twelve typical Constables each with some sort of instant trenchmaking shovel, and a horrific heavy machine gun similar to the Soviets, but used to great effect against even airborne mecha. The Constables seemed to prefer ducking into their shovels while firing their heavy machine guns, before standing up to pursue them, running, with sniper rifles of a calibre similar to the heavy machine gun itself. The Japanese knew that these were not the typical Constables they were facing; they never thought they would miss the old once-ubiquitous Danao 45 with the shotgun-grenade launcher, in the face of these new weapons. As such, due to the risk involved in ferrying vulnerable Japanese units in the face of constant Chrono-borne guerrilla attacks, numerous garrisons and rapid defenses were put up to create a series of 'safe outposts' for the rest of the Japanese troops to travel safely.

Even then, every soldier was wary of each other, after reports of Japanese troops suddenly fighting their former comrades. The new doctor-commander Saiko attributed this to simple shellshock, but the soldiers themselves out in the field know better. It is the _Sairen_, whose propaganda philosophy had finally seized the minds of the less-loyal elements of Japan, in effect purging them. It would have been nice, had they not decided to turncoat randomly, while armed. No one knows what triggers once-loyal sons of Japan to suddenly go berserk, shooting on fellow Japanese, but one thing is for sure: a real Japanese soldier would kill these turncoats with greater intensity, for having once tasted the fruits of Japan, and suddenly turn against it, is a graver sin than being simply being born inferior somewhere else.

Meanwhile, in one such outpost...

"Do you see anything?"

"None yet. If those barbarians try to attack us again, those VX would shoot first anyway."

An Imperial Warrior and a Tankbuster were sharing a smoke in an abandoned shanty they have hastily garrisoned. Or they would have, had they not been wary of infamous cases of fellow Japanese being sniped by Filipino rifles; their cigarette giving away their positions.

"This stinks. I can't get a smoke to calm my nerves, and I can't shoot properly when my nerves ain't calm. And I need to kill each and every one last gaijin because I can't get a decent smoke with their sniping around! Emperor-damned it!"

Just then, they received a transmission, telling all Japanese troops to assemble at base. The two troops then joined in the file towards the Sudden Transport, where three other Japanese troops were waiting for them.

"So, command finally is pulling us out? Oh yeah, finally."

"Good job holding your sanity at those shacks men. Now let's move out."

At the island's central base, the Sudden Transport wheels in with a column of Tsunami Tanks, Mecha Tengus, and other Japanese foot soldiers. A pair of King Onis have also landed at base. None of the mecha operators or tankers were willing to get out of their vehicles in case some Constable gets lucky, while the foot soldiers, exhausted after the march in full gear, rested on the sides of the tanks, lying their aching backs against the road wheels. The Tengus were in various states of disrepair, but none of the damages were serious. The Chopper VX's were also fine and all, their operators resting after a stressful duty of escorting the transports. The Japanese soldiers were looking at each other, then at the headquarters, then at their radios.

It was very odd. No further orders. They were called to assemble, and then...what?

From a distance, the Japanese could feel the tremble of distant cannons. The sound of a fast-moving airplane, a Lamok probably, but no one could tell for sure. It sounded faster, much faster, and yet much farther. Nothing.

Suddenly, the King Oni changed its "external electro-polychromic allegiance indicator" to Filipino standards, effectively changing colours literally and figuratively. Before anybody can respond, it stomped on a Tsunami Tank. The Chopper VX escorts also suddenly went rouge, quickly attacking the already-damaged Mecha Tengus, destroying lots of them in the process.

"TRAITORS TO JAPAN! KILL THEM!"

The true Japanese then shot at the King Oni with such ferocity that in just a few seconds the rogue King Oni clutched its chest, then fell. On top of another Tsunami Tank. Then its Honorable Discharge activated, killing two more foot soldiers with an explosion-induced shockwave. A bunch of Mecha Tengus were able to evade being turned to scrap nanometal, turning into Jet Tengus and firing at the turncoats with the autocannons. The rounds quickly tore through the canopy of the first Chopper, killing its pilot with a powerful shot to the head that blew fragments of his skull out of the chopper. The low-flying helicopter then crashed, slicing two Tankbusters with the rotors before exploding, impaling five foot metal shards on five five-foot foot soldiers.

For clarification purposes though, I would like to state that the Imperial Japanese Army in this story, while rather silly, does not accept quintupeds in its army. Able Japanese bipedal _Homo sapiens sapiens_ with a height of 1.524 meters are accepted, and are those which in the previous paragraph are impaled by, as I clarify again, 1.524-meter-long shards of metal, and not five shards of foot-metal, whatever foot-metal is.

Needless to say, the impaled Japanese bipedal ground infantry are killed by the 1.524-meter-long pieces of metal, and as the chaotic skirmish progressed it became imminent that their deaths were not in vain: the Japanese have defended themselves against the traitorous attack by the more gullible Japanese now that the King Oni and the Chopper VX's are all destroyed, but at great cost to other military assets.

To the Filipinos who are observing though, it was just a demonstration of the new secret protocols, done by hacking into the heavily encrypted unit communications to feed Turiano Carpio's _Philosophy of War_ directly to the individual unit himself or herself to suit Philippine needs. Lower-rung commanders are granted hacks into individual units for their "enlightenment" to the Filipino commander's advantage, while those of a higher rung are granted hacks to multiple units within a small area, from which a "borrowed" hacked satellite could broadcast the philosophy to a wider audience. And as they saw it, it was a success.


	50. New Unit: Paint Sub

A lone submarine surfaces just a few kilometers from the last remaining, and perhaps the toughest, Japanese stronghold at Luzon, erected a mere hundred kilometers or so south of the capital city of Manila. Due to driving back numerous Japanese attempts to capture Manila, the Filipinos were already tired and weary, and the fact that that Japanese stronghold shares the same island of Luzon as that of Manila itself is a concern for the defenders. Another overland assault of the scale the Japanese previously mounted would surely destroy Manila and cripple resistance elsewhere throughout the Philippines.

Worse, another Japanese army was spotted north of Manila, aboard a whole Battlebase instead of just a simple MCV with the very real threat of encircling the Filipino defenders at Manila from the north and south; thus the Japanese at the south should be destroyed as soon as possible before a Japanese two-front offensive commences.

"Range 27000. Ready the mortar."

"Captain, we, er, have a problem."

"Eh?"

The submarine is completely unlike anything the Constabulary has fielded before: it is conventional. It is a true conventional submarine, with a teardrop hull and true ballast tanks, unlike the Lapu-lapu with its fishing-boat origins readily apparent in its design, and an ability to dive being achieved by swamping the rest of the ship _just_ right. The new submarine is evidently not of Filipino make, and is actually the first of the fruits of the Mindanao FutureTech facility. When the Filipinos first found it, it was not alone, no, it was in a whole wolfpack of similar submarines, strangely stripped of weapons and with scuttling explosives still intact. Oddly enough the submarines had no damage whatsoever; most likely the submarines were chronoported from their universe in the middle of a post-war forced disarmamentation. This leaves the Filipinos with proper, true submarines...but no torpedoes, which is bad because the Filipinos are critically lacking torpedoes to the point that the whole Lapu-Lapu fleet was armed with sonic weapons instead. Apparently, this submarine was no excemption to the no-torpedo rule either.

"Captain, the crates of rounds have no rounds!"

"What? So what's in them?"

"Sir, they seem to be paint. '1172-c Filipino Affiliation-Designatory Paint: For use on all units sided and under the control of the Republic of the Philippines. Warning, highly flammable.' Now why would they put that in those boxes?"

"So we have what, paint? For our siege mortar? What are we supposed to do, paint them in Filipino colors and hope they die from lead poisoning? Try looking at the other crates."

Meanwhile, the freshly-withdrawn Japanese soldiers disembarked from their transports at that same stronghold. Rumors abound of those 'weird Filipinos armed with a plague that controls your mind' to explain the weird instances of soldiers suddenly fighting their comrades, since they thought that psionic battlefield-warping weapons are a Japanese specialty alone that no gaijin can replicate, much less deploy in such a great number of instances that it seemed like a mass-produced weapon.

An Imperial Engineer disembarked. "It must be a biological weapon. How else could so many suddenly defect to the Filipinos, seemingly at random?"

The Imperial Warrior he was talking to was insistent. "No man, it must be psionic! What kind of plague leaves a man with such good fitness, and only attack us and not _any_ Filipino? Who knew what experimental chemicals Shiro Insanitarium disposed of in Philippine waters...I worked there before and any environmental laws they managed to go around by disposing toxic waste in international waters."

The Engineer was equally insistent. "So it _must_ be biological. They here must have isolated whatever the Insanitarum threw at them, weaponizing those into some invisible gas that attacks the mind."

One of the feared, mysterious Shinobi suddenly popped out, his expression alternating between extreme focus and being totally phased out-high. "No manne, I have already seen the worste and the beste of Japane, but nothing quite like the wordes they use here...somethinge, somebodey here in these islandes. I have heard...wordes far beyond me, far beyond Japane itself, and onley these...SOIL! keepes me able enoughe mentalley to serve the Japanese Armee..."

The Engineer looks at the Shinobi warily. "Eew man, get that dirt away from my uniform."

Just then, from far away, a shell flies through the air. It comes in straight towards the Japanese base before suddenly detonating in mid-air over the Japanese at the makeshift port. The air bomb goes off, releasing...paint?

SPLATTER!

"TRAITORS!"

The Japanese soldiers suddenly found themselves surrounded by their fellow soldiers, wearing Filipino colours! For a split second they wondered, tensely, if all of those soldiers they are looking at were enemies. Eyes squinted even more, as they waited, contemplating whether they really are traitors or not. It only took a tense muscle jerk to be misread as a draw of a weapon, before they massacred each other with an emboldened pride that each of them had for being the only one able to resist the weird Filipino mind-control. The Imperial Warrior lopped off the head of the Engineer before crossing swords with the crazed Shinobi.

"Soe, youe are the crazede traitore!"

The Shinobi kicks the Imperial Warrior at the head with sheer ninja skills, then plunges his sword straight into the foramen magnum, pithing the Imperial Warrior immediately before the Shinobi himself was rendered so full of holes by the Defender VX. Another shell flies into the heavily-guarded base itself, bathing the MCV with paint. Immediately ten Wave-Force towers discharged at the MCV, destroying it and dealing massive amounts of collateral damage in the process. The well-painted base battered itself until the paint flaked off as every vehicle, soldier, and building shuddered from the blow of the attacks, and only when the paint fell off from the shock did the survivors realize that it was nothing more than just simple paint.

Meanwhile, at sea. "Captain, we found a shell!"

"Well then sailor, fire it immediately!"

A lone shell was discharged from the mortar before striking the base, taking down the damaged Instant Generator in a blast. Then the highly flammable paint spontaneously combusted, burning whatever was left and creating a huge firestorm in the process that engulfed the whole base.

**In-game Unit Profile:** Paint Sub

**Designation:** Anti-ship submarine/Anti-everything-else special siege ship  
><strong>Training Headquarters:<strong> Mindanao FutureTech Facility  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Naval Shipyard

**Accessories:**  
>» 12" Gun M1895<br>» Fore and aft amplified Sonic Disruptors  
>» Surround-sound Speakers<br>» Various small-arms and other salvaged equipment  
>» Crates of vaguely-marked paint and mortar rounds<p>

**History:**

From being simple Typhoon Attack Submarines in Soviet service, these submarines found themselves in a role more in common with its nemesis the Boomer submarine. The events that lead to this are rather complex: the Americans have stormed Moscow, destroying the leadership at the Kremlin and capturing Premier Romanov in the process. The Soviet submarine fleet in that universe thus surrendered as well, their submarine fleets herded for scuttling, when some _certain_ members of the Allied nations decided to shoot the submarines with neutron rifles to speed up scuttling, preventing other countries from gleaning any crucial data concerning advanced submarine technology in the process. After all, with the collapse of the Soviet Union, who will be the next most likely enemies?

It just so happens that these were among the first things teleported to Manila, where a bunch of old coastal defense guns from Corregidor were dismantled to mount them onto something more flexible. It also just so happens that these fit just right inside a Typhoon, where a dorsal door forward of the tower could easily mount the pop-up cannon to bombard enemies from far away. It also just so happens that the Manila shipwrights are wondering where entire crates of paint disappeared.

Since this action, the much cheaper paint became the predominant weapon of the ship, confusing enemies all over the Philippines, painting them in Filipino colours and making them valid targets to any enemy unit within range. The ol' reliable artillery shell are still there of course for all-purpose siege bombardment, but the smart commander would saturate the enemy first in flammable paint before using the conventional shell, creating a huge firestorm in the process. Of course, as with all large Filipino units, a complement of troops armed with small-arms abound the ship ready to deter enemies with anti-aircraft and anti-surface fire, while the Sonic Disruptors give the submarine all of the sound-related abilities of the Lapu-Lapu class vessel: the ability to "twinkle" at SONAR, sonic "torpedoes" ala-Dolphin, point-defense sonic pulses, and an inspiration to fellow naval units.

**Game unit:**

As a submarine it is a proper attack submarine, fairly tough even without the point-defense sonic pulses, and able to fire while submerged, though for its size and class its attack is relatively lackluster compared to the Naginata or the Akula, though stronger than that of the Lapu-Lapu, and is still quite significant to many vessels. As said before, when submerged it could attack ships continuously without surfacing, and even do so while facing rearwards in case of a sudden retreat. Additionally, most damage to the ship is nullified, and any attack that gets through has to try to damage the solid construction of the vessel first before sinking it. When submerged it also tends to disappear every now and then in the enemy's sonar as well, making targeting of the ship very difficult.

When afloat, the crew inside readies their infantry weapons including the infamous Voronita, for long-range bombardment, anti-aircraft duties, and general surface-target-elimination, while still attacking with the Sonic Disruptor and still nullifying most torpedoes. This also unleashes the submarine's siege gun, which is perhaps its most striking weapon. At a whim, the captain could switch between a conventional shell, and a paint air bomb that colors _all_ surface units within its area of effect in Filipino colours, even at the interface of enemy commanders. All units nearby (including the painted units themselves) would act as if the painted units are (suddenly) allied with the Paint Sub, and while under this mode all those drenched in paint would be uncontrollable to the enemy commander (their radioes likely blocked out by paint). This would mean that, without changing the mode to Hold Fire, painted units would attack painted units and other units its original faction considers as enemies, while nearby units would consider the painted units as enemies as well, killing each other in the process. As such, this could bring down large concentrations of troops quickly, except if they are set on the Hold Fire mode. But then, the paint is flammable...

The paint could only hold onto its targets temporarily though, flaking off faster if the painted unit is under attack. However, another nasty surprise awaits: any attack on the painted units _may ignite the paint_. Even the paint flakes on the ground or sea could ignite as well, bringing further damage assuming they did not degrade first. Even better, the Paint Sub's old-fashioned shell also has ingredients that could catalyze the exothermic reaction of the paint, ensuring that the paint on the units and on the battlefield itself does get ignited and even making the firestorm burn hotter, for longer.

The ship, submerged or not, still acts like a Generals' Speaker Tower, augmenting regeneration rates and increasing attack speed and damage of any allied ships in the vicinity including any swimming Martels or Bear Cavalry. Needless to say, it still auto-repairs, and some may even be built with random upgrades like sensors, depending on what the captain brings in his ship, further increasing the variety of Paint Subs that can be fielded.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Wolfpack_ - It is a decent attack submarine, well-armored and able to fire while submerged, able to throw off or prematurely detonate enemy underwater munitions, and able to twinkle on and off SONAR. All these effects tend to increase its survivability, which makes up for the relative weakness of the Paint Sub's Sonic Disruptors compared to the other factions' units of the same class.

_Boomer_ - Once surfaced, sailors could deploy their small-arms to drive away pesky aircraft and surface units. But more importantly, the siege gun emerges from its fixed mount, ready to either paint enemies to death, or simply crack them apart with its smaller shells (for slightly weaker damage compared to other flagships), both from long range.

_Fire at Will_ - Don't forget to ignite the paint with the submarine's own shells; that's why you can toggle between both types of siege ammunition: to choose whether you sadistically prefer them to fight former comrades, or just want to see them burn in Filipino colors. Even the seas shall burn with enough paint flakes floating around.

_Credit Sink_ - For a seemingly simple construction sequence (the hulls are actually fabricated 'elsewhere', and acquired for free!), it costs as if the Filipinos made the whole submarine. The hull? Pay extra to fund the operations of the Mindanao FutureTech facility. The siege gun it uses? Pay extra to fund the fortification of Corregidor. The sonic systems? Pay extra for the talent fee of the weapons diva manning the Sonic Disruptor (for better damage than the Lapu-Lapu, I might add). So to somehow lose these costly new vessels to enemy fire would be indeed quite a waste of potential; they were made as submarines so that they could flee reasonably well for a long-range bombardment vessel, while still being quite tough and deployed with all those sonic defenses for so much survivability in mind, and somehow a proper commander, like _you_, could still lose one of these vessels?


	51. March of the Duplicates

"Sir, the Japanese base is now burning!"

"Yes, yes I see. But where is our signal to advance?"

The Filipino soldiers have just waited for the Paint Sub to soften up the enemy, and could see various explosions from their vantage point. They could hear the fire blazing loudly in the distance, intersped with intermittent gunfire and rocket barrages. They could see Wave-Force beams trading shots with each other wildly, and could feel the rough nanometal ash on their skin, making them cough and forcing them to put on their masks. After all, burnt nanometals might be carcinogenic, and no one would like to survive a war only to die of cancer shortly after.

A few Japanese stragglers crawled out of the hellhole that was once their base, right into the layers of entrenched Filipino soldiers whose heavy machine guns quickly ripped through them, man and mecha. The other Japanese troops, shipped all the way from the other parts of the Philippines surviving raids, now lay very, very dead, killed by their comrades' weapons. Meanwhile, under the burning ground where his base once existed, Dr. Saiko has just put the finishing touches on his new project. He then grabs the intercom, announcing to all of the Japanese soldiers in his base.

"All troops, converge at the plaza at...immediately."

From the other side of the intercom he could hear flames, and sporadic gunshots. He then activates his above-ground camera, and from the view he could see that either his camera fell to its side, or the aboveground suddenly tilted.

"Wow, I just leave you Japanese grunts for three months to defend the base, and now you spontaneously combust? Well, doesn't matter, this new project of mine shall bring great honour to the Emperor, and to me for doing so! Now, Yuriko, will you be so kind as to wear this Strong Homogenous Residual-Interactive Neutron Kinetic-ated Terror Drone as you would a hat? Don't worry, its debeaked. It won't hurt at all...I hope."

It was Dr. Saiko's personal pet project. He was to link up Yuriko's mind to massive banks of Nanotech Mainframes, all hidden underground, to help her coordinate her control of her soil-Yurikoes, allowing her to summon more of them. Much, much more of them. The S.H.R.I.N.K.-Beamed Terror Drone, on the other hand, was there due to its neuronal interface capabilities. Still, despite the perceived superiority of Imperial neuronal interface technology, Dr. Saiko still insisted on using the Terror Drone for neural interfacing due to a number of reasons, one of which was that it was found lying around uselessly as scrap, unlike its Imperial counterparts which were in very high demand for repair and maintenance of the mechas. Besides, it would be quite dishonorable to use the Emperor's military assets for just a simple pet project. Still another reason to use the Terror Drone was that it used a simpler, more primitive code that he found easier to comprehend somehow.

The shrunken Terror Drone was fitted on Yuriko's head, the mechanical arachnid interfacing with her psionic brain. Suddenly a surge of massive processing potential made everything clearer to her.

"Now Yuriko, try to form something out of that pile of soil up there."

Yuriko focused on a piece of soil shown on the tipped above-ground camera. Normally by herself she would strain herself to mold that into a vaguely humanoid shape, and even in her drug-addled state she would still take a few seconds to form a soil version of herself, and even then only a mere hollow shell of soil formed at her image at that. Now with the computing power of buildings' worth of mainframes, she was able to even form internal organs. However, she still couldn't make a perfect carbon copy of herself despite all modifications because her psychic brain is, like that of ordinary humans, rather lacking in sensory presence; there is not enough sensory receptors at the brain to be able to psionically recreate it accurately, thus greatly hindering her potential to create self-replicating copies of herself. Simply put, she still has to control **all** of her soil-Yurikoes; certain tasks are just merely delegated to the mainframes.

From the soil shown in the videocam, two soil-Yurikoes suddenly emerged. Each with their eyes, providing Yuriko with a proper view of the ground above the laboratory, she could see more soil and other easily-moldable material. Another, and then another soil-Yuriko formed in quick succession, until a platoon of these soil-based psionic warriors were formed.

The Filipinos finally received the signal to advance. Martel tanks advanced, with soldiers wielding carbines carabinered to the hull, advanced first, while Constables marched on behind, lugging their machine guns while sweeping the terrain with their old bolt-action rifles the Philippine Constabulary resurrected from stock. Their only compensation for being equipped with visibly aged weapons was that those very rifles were the stock rifles for practicing rifle drills, marksmanship, and squad tactics, meaning that the Constables are quite proficient with their post-Great War I rifles. The extra strength and range provided by these antiques compared to their more modern counterparts also didn't hurt the decision of the Philippine Constabulary to use these rifles again. But then, this meant little when the Constables encountered the company of soil-Yurikoes who are now juggling the lead tank of their attack.

"Don't deploy your machine guns! Shoot them from range!"

Seeing that her creations are being sniped, Yuriko suddenly summoned a bunch of soil-Yurikoes at the line of Constables, lifting one after another, disrupting the formation of Constables.

"Ahrg, where are they coming from? W-whoa, oh no you won't take me up there alone eh!"

Constable Cojuanco suddenly grabbed a soil-Yuriko by the neck as he was being psionically levitated by other soil-Yurikoes. With his body being ripped apart, he then broke the neck of the duplicate Yuriko with his dying breath. Other Constables were forced to bash the skulls of the duplicates with the butts of their rifles, leaving the rest to conduct a fierce fighting retreat with their machine guns against an increasing horde of psionic duplicates.

"Command, we can't hold 'em! Pull back, pull back!"

Despite the brave efforts of the Philippine Constabulary, they could not dislodge the Japanese threat at the south. Knowing full well that the battleplan was to crush Japanese forces in the south so as to defend northern Philippines from the troops shipped aboard the Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_, the Constables' mood sank as they notified high command, while running away for dear life, that it was an impossible task, what with all those Yurikoes now tearing up southern Luzon.


	52. Meanwhile Slightly North

Meanwhile up North of Manila, very, very close to the Battlebase _Chrysanthemum__..._

"Captain, the phantom island has been spotted. It sounds man-made; in fact I think I could hear humming, constant humming...that of gigantic engines. It certainly is not seismic, despite its massive draft."

"I see. Maestro, play some instrumental music. We can't risk their SONAR detecting us. Sonar man, can you still hear the phantom island properly...no? Very well, Navigator, try putting us within periscope range of the vessel. I'd like to see this vessel for myself."

"Yes captain." The crew got on to work, but with the sonar man quickly adding "By the way Captain, we have names you know."

"I know you have names, but seeing our chances with this giant vessel I'd suggest you start forgetting other peoples' names as well. Makes death easier, that way."

Mortified by the morbid remark of the captain, the crew still worked, not with bright enthusiasm, but the grim determination to do their best in the face of danger. To rub it in further, the Maestro plays Celine Dion's _My Heart Will Go On_ on his handicraft bamboo flute, since that song is the only one he really mastered.

A few kilometers away lay the vessel that sank the mood of the crew. It was the Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_, as the captain of the Lapu-Lapu vessel from the previous chapter had confirmed to High Command. It seemed to be sailing quickly towards Manila Bay, but the captain insisted on doggedly stalking the giant vessel in case it does a sharp turn northwards towards Lingayen Gulf instead. The Lapu-Lapu captain was confident in the ability of the song in hiding his puny vessel from the gigantic Battlebase, and perhaps he was right. No one noticed the vessel as it raced towards the bow of the vessel, hidden from Japanese SONAR by the Maestro's instrumental music. The Weapons Girl for the submarine was delighted: she could now rest her vocal cords after hours of hiding the ship with her singing, and if ever she is to sing again at least she would have an accompaniment. The captain noted how close he could actually approach the Battlebase, and let the Weapons Girl sleep early; her singing is to be reserved for an actual attack since the instrumentals could already suffice in anti-SONAR duty.

On the Battlebase, at the prow, the sonorous song from the Filipino vessel beneath the waves broke out of the water and into the air. At that prow, Commodore Dohson looks at First Mate Bara as she runs towards him, with Japanese troopers watching both of them from the ship windows. It is an open secret that First Mate Bara's position as the 'first mate' towards the commodore meant more than mere military rank, and somehow the sea breeze, the tropical skies, the setting sun, and the distant love song faintly audible in the background makes even the most trained soldiers of Japan romantic. Not to mention that the Allied Dolphins in the front of the ship have been swimming for dear life for the past six hours, and are already skwee-kingly tired.

"Isn't it romantic here Captain? You could almost...hear a love song even from this distance. You know, I just looooove tropical getaways, I talked to Miss Toyama once and she also said she had the same ideas with her commander, going to the beach, walks on the sunset with sand between their toes, though she says her CO is rather, how shall I put it, slow on those things..."

"Miss Bara, what is that?"

"Oh, you mean Miss Toyama's commander, Commander-"

"No, the sound. It almost seems like a...song."

"Ah, it's _My Heart Will Go On_. A perennial classic in KTV bars all over."

Captain Dohson looked at Ms. Bara's eyes, and just when she thought it was some sort of romantic tension as in the movies...

Some Japanese officer ran across the bridge, destroying the moment. "Captain, we picked up traces of what is seemingly artificial a kind of sound over the SONAR."

The captain quickly ran off towards the bridge, leaving the first mate alone on the prow, together with a bunch of Dolphins succumbing to exhaustion getting sucked up by the massive engines of the ship.

The captain looked over the log. "This segment, cut it and fragment it to components." The _Chrysanthemum_'s computer bank then isolated a sound, a different sound from the ambient sound of sea, sky, and dolphins being ground into pieces by the ship engines.

He looked to the sonarman. "Do you recognize this tone?"

The sonarman listened to it for a few minutes. "The isolated tone captain? Sounds like _My Heart Will Go On_, on a crappy flute. But what's it doing out here?"

"So it _really_ was man-made. Scramble some Yaris; we can't let intruders put our operations in peril now. But tell them to be careful, we're still trying to keep to schedule."

The Yaris were launched from the Battlebase's massive torpedo tubes now designed to fire _whole submersibles_, hunting by buddy system as per patrol.

The Filipino submariners have detected the Yaris as well. "Evade them. Fight them off if necessary!"

A pair of Yaris have detected the Lapu-Lapu almost immediately though, giving the Filipinos no choice but to fight. The two scout submarines fired their torpedoes while the captain prepared his voice as well, since the Weapons Girl was asleep and couldn't man [or wo-man] the Sonic Disruptors. With an electronically amplified commanding bellow he disrupted the torpedoes aimed towards his ship, and then hung on as the submarine swerved violently to avoid collision with the two suicidal Yaris, which then crashed into the Battlebase with little effect to the behemoth.

"To the rear of the ship Navigator!"

The Lapu-Lapu's navigator, too busy to fret about his name being left unused, quickly steered the submarine along the contour of the Battlebase as the puny Mozu torpedoes slammed into the Battlebase's torpedo belt one after another, barely missing the Lapu-Lapu. The Weapons Girl, awakened by the rough underwater sailing and the concussive blasts so close to her bunk, then ran towards her post, giving vocals to the poor flute-playing guy. Imperial soldiers ran up to the deck to the railings, following the action by chasing the Yari torpedo hits on the _Chrysanthemum_. Finally, with a brave dive the Lapu-Lapu attempted to evade the pursuers, relying on their better pressure hulls compared to the cheap Yaris. Sure enough, three Yaris followed foolishly and their cockpits immediately buckled in, crushing its sailors.

Unfortunately, the Lapu-Lapu's pressure hull, weakened by the Yari's torpedoes exploding too close to the ship-shaped-submarine, began to crack in a few places. The captain was forced to make an emergency blow, upon which _all_ the rest of the Yaris committed their lives for a Last Voyage attack on the single enemy. Wrong move, they all instead rammed into the _Chrysanthemum_'s propellers, crippling the Battlebase's main propulsion system and leaving it with nothing more but tiny bow and stern thrusters. As the Lapu-Lapu sped away with numerous holes from the Imperial Japanese troops spectating, pursued by Tsunami Tanks deployed from the numerous ramps of the _Chrysanthemum_, the Japanese on board the Battlebase were then herded back to their bunks as the Wave-Force triguns are brought to bear on the pesky Filipino ship.

"Crash dive now now now now now!"

The Wave-Force hit the pursuing Tsunami tanks instead, as the rest of the amphibious tanks were doggedly attacked by the submerged Lapu-Lapu with impunity, as the Battlebase limped onwards, but at much reduced speeds.

Captain Dohson looked at the officer beside him. "You know, it was probably oversight. These vessels were designed to be floating fortresses, so they didn't bother making the propulsion tougher. Still, pesky enemy those were. We have to stop for repairs for now...this vessel is more important than the schedule for now."


	53. Commandoes' Challenge

"Now, Constable Suarez, define what a team is."

"Sir, it is a group of people or animals linked in a common purpose, appropriate for conducting tasks that are high in complexity and have many interdependent subtasks."

"You just gave the Wikipedia definition idiot. Normally worse things ought to be done to you, be we don't have time for that now. To the rest of you people, understand this: the Constabulary is just a large team of people, and some animals perhaps, linked in a common purpose of defending this country from its enemies like those squint-eyed Japanese. Thus, we need teamwork, and a large amount of men if we were to combat that schoolgirl juggernaut horde down there at Quezon."

All the way back in the War Room at Manila, far from the forward base where Constable Suarez, his superiors, and his comrades are now staying, Turiano Carpio and a bunch of other senior officials are standing and looking at the floor, pointing at various spots in the design.

"I like the way this feature snakes around the square."

"The colours in this area are a bit...off."

However, the officers are not simply wasting their time admiring the floor while their foot soldiers are getting slaughtered by Japanese, because the floor is composed of hundreds of old TV screens - frames removed and screens installed adjacent to each other- showing a composite map of the battlefield of this 'Yuriko crisis'. In real time, reports of sightings of Yuriko duplicates spread quickly from the burnt Japanese base; coupled with real-time loss of contact of various deployed units in the area. This fourth-world version of an interactive planning map is much, much better than its predecessor: a sandbox map on the floor where hundreds of lieutenants on desk duty move around units. This old mapping system, while needing less electricity obviously, tied up hundreds of officers on moving-unit-markers-around duty, and too often an officer would trip on the sandbox map, spilling the "Sierra Madre mountain ranges" into the "Philippine Sea", turning 2000 square kilometers of sea into land instantly. With the new system at least, the High Command could easily zoom and scroll the interactive map, with the 'interactive' being done by shouting orders to the map operator nerd on the edge of the floor-based map.

While seemingly hopelessly obsolete against even Soviet planning maps, the TV-on-the-floor mapping setup had its advantages: at night the War Room is converted into a club, with the mapping floor used as a dance floor for displaying psychedelic light shows underneath the dancers' noses. Every morning soldiers on 'club' duty would just drag out the drunk clubbers, mop up vomit and other stains, and the floor is ready again for planning the defense of the Motherland. But this time, with the Yuriko duplicates on a rampage, none of the high officials were on a very dance-y mood.

One of the generals spoke up. "God, this looks very, very bad. We can't call the aircraft because they'll be psionically pulled down to the ground, we can't call in for more ground forces because of the losses we have incurred..."

"Ever noticed that none of our seaborne forces in the area are affected?" A lieutenant observed.

The officers looked at the map. Surely, a bunch of Lapu-Lapus providing small-arms fire support remained untouched, despite the fact that their fire has greatly slowed the Yuriko duplicate advance on a narrow slice of land that just happens to be perfectly within the Lapu-Lapus' fields of fire. Normally a Yuriko would just float all the way to the ships, pick them up from the waters, and crush them in mid-air, but these duplicates don't seem to be doing anything against the ships.

"Hmm, intriguing that the Duplicates can't just swim and destroy the ships. Maybe they don't float like a proper Yuriko clone. Confirmation?"

From the field, another Turiano Carpio watches the swarm of Yurikoes get barely contained by the sheer firepower lain down by the Lapu-Lapus. His field secretary replies to Manila High Command as he watches the sight from his scope. "Yes, the Duplicates are just walking instead of floating. My guess is that it is to ration psionic potential for increasing the amount of Duplicates Yuriko can raise...by deleting "psionic levitation", she may have freed her fiercely psionic mind to create even more of those Duplicates of her. That's why we're being slowly overrun by a horde of psychic teenage girls."

"Thank you for intel, and the unneeded commentary. How are you there?"

The field secretary frowned a bit from the remark of the general at Manila. Thankfully her facial expression could not be seen over the cellphone. "General, it seems that the situation is getting desperate; the Lapu-Lapus are being mauled badly by the Imperial Navy, and if those ships break the duplicates would spill over."

"So, what is Sir Carpio's plan?"

"General, Mr. Carpio plans to overwhelm the self-replicating horde of commando units, with his army of...himselves."

Imperial soldiers march on with the Duplicates, strolling, knowing that the psionic horde has just made their fights easier. A few hundred meters away lay the Filipinos, tired of fighting all those Duplicates. For the Filipinos, it was a hopeless situation; for the Japanese it is a ridiculous win, once the Lapu-Lapus stop firing of course. The Chopper-VX's would clear up the path from those fishing vessels in no time, that's sure!

And so it was in shock when they saw an equally large army of Turiano Carpios, moving towards them armed with nothing more than sheer philosophy. The _Sairen_, the one who can easily break their brains and even control their minds. One Turiano Carpio has already led entire battalions to fight their former comrades, one Turiano Carpio has already caused the philosophical death of hundreds of thousands by nothing more but philosophy, one Turiano Carpio has had a hand in the development of the feared and hated Lawful Annihilator. And now there's a _whole_ battalion of them?

"All Japanese common non-commando mooks, pull back. You are just mere mooks; this is a battle of heroes. I, Cmdr. Dr. Saiko, need the test data to know the effectiveness of my dear Yuriko's Duplicates against this...man. Do not engage, your intervention would only spoil my data."

The Japanese troops pulled back, leaving an army of only Duplicates against a line of Turiano Carpios. In the same way, the Filipino troops are too broken to put up a proper fight, and thus could not interfere with the epic fight of the commandoes.

"Now this is an interesting fight, not of a champion and a thousand mooks, but of a thousand copies of the champion and a handful of mooks! Go forth my Duplicates, crush that man and his inferior philosophy! Show them that science...trumps...philosophy. Ahahahaha!"

Constable Suarez looked at the army of Carpios move in to engage the enemy. "How did he do that? Could philosophy _really_ make more copies of a man?"

His superior answered him. "Hmm, Sir Carpio always said that no man is an army. Learned that in Military Philosophy 22. But now, I never really thought of a practical military application of such a ridiculously simple statement, until now. But then, after all, he _is_ Turiano Carpio, and I guess there are so many reasons and proofs for him to have an army of himself."

Even the generals wondered what theory Sir Carpio had come to life for the philosopher to produce a whole army of himself. Did he prove, multiple times, that he exists, causing multiple copies of him to exist as well? Did he rip versions of himself from the past and the future to create his army of himself? Did he pull out other Turiano Carpios from other universes? Was it because there are many entities of himself, within himself, that he gave all the moment to exist and let be? Did he point out so many errors in reality that reality itself decided that more Turiano Carpios are necessary to correct all its errors? Nobody really knows what goes on in the mind, in the life, in the very existence and essence of the philosopher, but one thing is clear: he is to go after the Duplicates personally, and his research would be rendered void as well if as much as _one_ bullet from the Filipinos interfere with his research into the mind of a psychic junkie. Quite simply, this is a battle between massed commandoes, Yuriko[es] against Carpio[es], and none of the normal, mook-y Filipino or Japanese are to interfere with their battle.


	54. New Unit: Catholitic Converter

The Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_ slowly trundled towards Luzon, its main propulsion systems damaged by elite, if confused (and very dead) Yari submariners. Despite the _Chrysanthemum_ unable to provide naval bombardment against Filipino defenders at the landing site, First Mate Bara is nonetheless sent forward aboard an MCV and escorted by some elite soldiers. The Filipino defenders are entrenched on the beaches lobbing shells at her landing force, but she is undeterred, steeled by years of Japanese military training and reassuring words from Commander Dohson. A Shogun Executioner acting as escort/breakthrough unit also helps too.

First Mate Bara's MCV sailed behind the gigantic assault walker as it weeded out pesky Lapu-Lapus. In just one Omega Shockwave, the naval arm of the Philippine Constabulary was immediately decimated, and even liquefied the sandy soil underneath the Filipino entrenchments. Numerous soldiers were swept off their feet, and the only Tirradores dela Muerte in the area was killed when the shockwave destabilized the Kalakihan rounds of his Voronita heavy sniper gun, suddenly expanding within its chamber, smashing the frontal bone and introducing bone fragments into the orbital cavity, embedding sharp bone shards into his eye. It did not matter much for the poor chap however, in a few microseconds his face was crushed by a rapidly-expanding shell, and after a few more microseconds his spine was broken and his brain burst out of every hole, orifice, failed suture, and foramen as his comrades watched their only hope for killing the Japanese juggernaut - the Tirradores' Voronita sniper gun - destroyed. Who knew that writing fan fiction could help in studying for medical school?

The Filipinos were surprised; the news blackout implemented by the Japanese offshore radio-scrambler beacons blocked news reports of the Shogun Executioner crushing Odessa, What they did not know, nor prepare for as well, is that the Shogun Executioner was provided by the Emperor himself to ensure that the Philippines firmly falls into the Empire's hands, for if they would not do so immediately the wily Allies could take over the Philippines instead and deploy a Chronosphere, right within striking range of Tokyo. Therefore, the conquest of the Philippines has become top priority for the Japanese military, and to catalyze its fall the Emperor has also arranged for the elimination of the Philippines' own version of a god-head: the Primate of the Philippines, the highest head of the Catholic Church in the Philippines, the concurrent Archbishop of Manila himself, hopefully to crush Philippine morale.

The archbishop of Manila has just prepared for the early morning mass. Due to fears of Japanese Shinobi much of the Japanese population in the Philippines were transferred in concentration camps, where they were just...kept. Quite literally concentration camps, they were not forced into hard labour, they were not undergoing unethical medical experiments, they were simply just removed from the general Filipino population, isolated in a camp for fear that some of them may actually be the Emperor's Shinobi. They however were removed from their means of livelihood, and with the Imperial Army ravaging through the farms all over the Philippines food has become a rationed item of which the concentration camp-interred Japanese could not exactly get much, but then in comparison the general population could not get much food either. Understandably, the archbishop saw these concentration camps evil, the conditions inside these camps as bad for the poor Japanese, and so he slipped away some of the supposed prisoners into the cathedral to save them from the rather wretched conditions in the camps, as well as convert them to Catholicism, hoping that when the war ends these Japanese people he has saved could go back to mainland Japan and proselytize, saving the souls of the pagan (as defined by the Catholic Church) nation.

The Japanese did not think so, however, because they are actually Shinobi. They were the very Shinobi sent by the Emperor to kill the archbishop, and the archbishop made it ridiculously easy. Sprinkling some nano-poison into the sacramental wine, they quickly slipped out of the cathedral in an American car and drove away...

**In-game Unit Profile:** Catholitic Converter

**Designation:** Anti-infantry Support Unit  
><strong>Manufacturer: <strong>Francisco Motors  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Workshop

**Accessories:**  
>» Prow prong<br>» Pews for 20 of the faithful  
>» Divinely-inspired vehicular engineering<br>» Watertight design  
>» <em>The Good News in Sixty Seconds<em> (with gold inlay)

**History:**

The archbishop did not die. He drank from the sacramental wine, and fell sick. However, some of the Shinobi were able to administer to the archbishop a nano-antidote to the nano-poison quickly after Mass, they being converted to Christianity instead. It was the first time, it seems, that the Shinobi met true, non-romantic love. Not nationalistic love, nor love for the Emperor, no, none of them in Japan seemed to love the Shinobi back for all the effort the Shinobi gives to his countrymen. The Shinobi had to undergo a very difficult training, only to be deployed in espionage missions in a foreign land with a culture far different from Japan, and then reassigned to front-line service under incompetent Japanese commanders who would just let the Shinobi be run over by stupid Hammer Tanks. And if ever they come home, they are not as celebrated as their Imperial Warrior counterparts; indeed, even a simple Shogun Battleship janitor is more respected than a Shinobi simply because the janitor is a Shogun Battleship crew member, and that Shinobi are just plain mysterious and thus not very likely to be trusted by a Japanese commoner.

The attempt on the archbishop's life has also changed the stance of the Philippine Catholic Church from a Christian pacifist type of a conscientious objector, to one that would support the Philippine Constabulary in its defense of the Filipino people, Christian or not, against the heathen murderers. However, it still is rather clear that killing people is a sin, and so the Philippine Catholic Church has to somehow assist in the defense of the Philippines without even attempting to kill any Japanese person. How do you do that?

By praying, of course. And by divine inspiration, the clergy has seen the Japanese soldiers beyond the guns, beyond the armor, beyond the ideology and the nation, beyond even flesh itself; they are in all finality just souls. They are some of the best soldiers from a military aspect, but are some of the most wretched souls from a spiritual aspect; though well-equipped to deal with any physical threat their souls are weak, and are in need of Christ's salvation, and _only_ He can save them. And to further bolster faith that the Japanese could be converted to Christianity, the Catholics received very specific instructions similar to Ezekiel 40-42 and Genesis 6-9 which lead to the creation of a divinely-inspired combustion engine instead of a ship and a temple; amazingly, the simple construction, reasonable efficiency and reliability, and sheer power for weight meant that this odd one-off engine is _the_ Holy Grail of heat engine engineering. In addition, an armour protection at optimum angle and design, a seating mechanism most ergonomic, and superior tread design gave this vehicle considerable toughness at minimum weight, with maximum power and thus speed and handling at a small cost. Comfortable pews within the vehicle indicate that this vehicle is a transport, used to transport the faithful safely from one place to another, while the watertight design and propulsion system meant that with this vehicle the priest could drive over water the same way his Master walked over it. Its divine design also blesses and inspires troops around it, giving them fortitude, healing, and zeal. Its odd architecture also slows down enemy units around it as they try to comprehend what they are seeing; a rolling cathedral in the middle of battle is surely a sight worth pondering upon.

However, what made this vehicle even more unique is that it had no specifications whatsoever for a turret, cannon, or even gun mount, instead having a soft, squishy 'bulldozer' blade at the very front with a very slight angle, leading upwards into a rather large chute that in turn leads into the vehicle instead. Taking inspiration from the Shinobi converts that saved his life, the Archbishop of Manila looked at the design and concluded, rightly, that its primary purpose is to convert the Japanese masses to Christianity. In the heat of battle.

What?

It carries soldiers to the front lines quickly with reasonable protection, unlike the Martel Tank that instead exposes the infantry to attack while transporting them. Not only that, the Catholitic Converter carries _20_ soldiers; no wonder it resembles a cathedral with a prong, which makes it uncrushable by an Assault Destroyer as well. While being heavily armored and uncrushable, it still has very good speed and acceleration, and is able to outrun and out-maneouvre even a Multigunner IFV. Indeed, it is everything one could wish for in a transport: speed, armor, and capacity - but no guns. The priests would not allow it; they would not let even a simple rifle even pop out of the Catholitic Converter's window, much less heavy guns. They are in the battlefield to proselyte, not to kill, and to do so they and their cheap speedy heavy transport are to go forth and make disciples of all nations - literally. Seriously. The front prong led into the vehicle for a reason, and that is to run over enemy infantry until the force of impact pushes them up the soft 'bulldozer' ramp into the vehicle where priests would disarm the stunned infantry, heal his wounds with a miracle (much to the surprise of the soldier), and then preach to the hapless infantryman about Jesus' love for them all, Jews and Gentiles, Filipinos and Japanese.

With theological finesse the soldier would be convinced that God is real, _very_ powerful, and _very_ loving, except human sin ruined His relationship with man. Since man is too sinful to approach God, or appease His wrath, God sent His only Son Jesus Christ to take humanity's sins, and in doing so Jesus Christ sacrificed Himself by taking God's punishment for _our_ sin, in _our_ stead, granting salvation to humans who would accept it. Finally, accepting this salvation could only be done by a person if he or she would personally believe in the Son, named Jesus Christ, and accept Him as Lord and Savior. That is the very core of Christianity, and that is the weapon the Church has prepared: a simple, yet effective spiritual weapon. Any priest could serve inside the vehicle by saving souls for the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the power the Holy Spirit vested in them, they could convert even the most hardened Japanese infantryman to Christianity in 60 seconds flat.

However, the Catholic Church, despite in the proselytizing business for centuries, did not quite factor in modern Japanese ideals. The soldier's zeal to serve the Emperor is replaced by the zeal to serve Christ, in the only way he knows: doing battle, and every too often after conversion to Christianity the convert would suddenly jump out of his seat, grab his weapons from the priest, jump out of the door, and fight his heathen former comrades to protect his new faith. The priests are working on how to tell their new converts that killing is bad, but for the time being locking the door out of the vehicle is all they could do.

**Game unit:**

It is cheap, very fast, and very tough. It is also amphibious; however it is completely unarmed. It looks like a cathedral, with a prow at front. It could transport 20 foot soldiers, and is so big that it could not be crushed by an Apocalypse Tank. It augments friendly units' armor, attack and movement speed, and healing in an area around it including itself, while slowing down enemies' attack and movement speed at the same time. And finally, it could be used to run over enemy soldiers, in which they are stored in the vehicle, counting to the 20-person transport capacity of the Catholitic Converter. Once inside, they are converted within a minute to your side, after which they are now ready to fight as your loyal infantry. However, infantry could not fire from inside the vehicle since the priests insist that the vehicle is a sanctuary; infantry must get out of the vehicle before engaging hostile forces, to defend the faith by beating off the persecuters.

Needless to say, its special ability is the ability to disembark passengers, be they your own infantry, or converted once-enemy troops.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Ark_ - It could float through the flood and carry two of every kind inside all the way to Mount Sinai; however for the purposes of the Constabulary it could float through bodies of water and carry 20 troops very, very quickly instead.

_Temple_ - The Temple is a well-built structure (compared to the Tabernacle, which is just a tent instead) where Jews rest and realign themselves with God; within it the Ark of the Covenant resides which, as its history suggests, tend to hurt those enemies of Israel who took it. Similarly, the Catholitic Converter is a very solidly-built vehicle that improves friendly unit healing, armor, movement, and attack, while slowing down enemies at the same time.

_Discipler_ - By running down, or rather up a pillowy ramp, enemy troops, they are then stored inside the vehicle along with your own troops where they are converted to Catholicism in about one minute of game time. After that one minute, these converted troops are willing and eager to fight for you instead, in defense of their new faith.

_Thou shalt not kill_ - The priests are unwilling to kill. They would also not allow anybody to shoot from inside their vehicle, they would not allow weapons to mounted in their vehicle, and if the vehicle is full and unable to comfortably store more soldiers in its pews, the driver would not even run over enemy soldiers or tanks (had there been space, the enemy infantry could have been converted instead), driving around them instead. Understandably, this means that the Catholitic Converter could not harm aircraft, tanks, ships or buildings at all.


	55. Other Side of the Pacific

_At an unspecified location..._

Commander Galloski angrily pounded the 11th-century mahogany table with his fist. "You mean the Philippine Government has not been ordering 'goods' from us for quite some time? WHAT?"

"No sir, err, not a word from them sir...nothing on the radio at all from the Philippines for quite some time already."

"Of course you can't hear anything on the radio from the Philippines; the Japanese still has a network of communication-interfering beacons. But despite that I still sold them Filipinos some reject airships. You got to get that kind of salesmanship kid, salesmanship! Hmm, but that is quite odd indeed, they never really had much of an industry to begin with.. I need another man in that country, see where they are getting their supplies."

_At some Canadian chateau..._

In another part of the world the Allied leaders are convening in a Canadian chateau, as the Netherlands megacorporation FutureTech had discussed the importance of their top-secret facility in the Philippines. The British representative sat listening to Ms. Weaver blabbing for hours, noting the post-war international implications of sending forces to the Philippines. The German representative was guessing the technical specifics of the project from the corporate babble of the FutureTech spokesperson. The French representative was eyeing the spokeswoman and brushing up his French (he is actually Algerian), while the Swiss representative noted the cost of the operation FutureTech was suggesting. The Belgian representative was present, as well as the representatives of the Scandinavian countries, but no one really notices them; they were there only out of courtesy for the other nations of the European Allies. The representative of the Netherlands was not there though, busted a day ago for smuggling Amsterdam brownies.

The American representative bellowed out. "Why don't we just forget that you FutureTech guys had a facility there? Fellow Allies, I sincerely believe that FutureTech is lying, because I have never heard of a country named "Philippines"..."

The Spanish representative quickly cut him. "American, don't you know the Philippines? Our countries went to war, and you took that colony of ours as prize!"

"Wait, I thought we warred over Cuba? The _Maine_ sank there, right?" The American replied, scratching his head.

"And just what Pacific territory did you get to keep after the Spanish-American War, hmm?"

"That is not the 'Spanish-American War', that is the 'AMERICAN-Spanish War'!"

The other Allies just looked quizzically at the idiot in their midst.

The American raised his hand. "Err, alphabetical order, right? We should RENAME that war now! Now who's with me, raise your hand. This is a democracy guys!"

The Norwegian representative muttered. "No, it's not!"

"So..." The Spaniard continued, twirling his Spanish mustache "...what, again, is the Pacific territory you Americans had again?"

"Err, Japan?"

The British representative spoke up. "Noting that we have no radio contact with the Philippine government for months, and that it is perilously close to Japan, shouldn't we assume that your secret facility has fallen under Japanese control? Now, Miss Weaver, tell us _exactly_ what you are developing there, because if that secret facility of yours is of little strategic importance, we won't help you. However, if that facility of yours is so important..."

_In the Philippines..._

Martel Tanks rolled out of the the Workshops all over the Philippines. Many of them were Rhino Tanks, its turret replaced with a standard Martel Tank turret, with the Leech Beam already integrated to the Filipino turret. Grizzly and Lasher tanks were uparmored as well to the same protection as that of a typical Hammer Tank, their engines replaced with the much-better Catholitic Converter's "St. Patrick, Patron Saint of Engineers" engines. Priests toiled for hours blessing the engines, and only holy water is used for cooling the engines. Savieroski Galloski watched the whole operation secretly from a back door. "Hmm, I could easily sabotage production, but those are good priests there. I may be ungood, but I'm still a Catholic." Then he heard a shotgun cock.

A Spy aimed a Grummond-8 at him. "Commander Savieroski of the Soviet Air Force, you are under arrest for..." Then with a precision whack on the head a thug knocked out the Spy. "Agent, you never really expected a Soviet Air Force General to spy around without bodyguards, don't you?" Shuriken suddenly killed the commander's bodyguards, as a Shinobi quickly closed in to Commander Galloski's neck. "So, Soviet barbarian, you thought your supplying the Filipinos would stop us?", the Shinobi said as he pressed his ninjato against Galloski's neck.

"Are you kidding me, ninja? I am here because the Filipinos have not ordered anything from me for months...urk!" The Shinobi thrust his knee against the Italian's stomach. "Lies! I know you, old mafiosi commander, you sold those airships that they now call 'Aurora Transports'. Now tell me where your operations base is, or I hand you over to the Kempeitai! And you know...how...no one likes the Kempeitai, officer..."

The Spy regains his consciousness. Slowly grabbing the Grummond from the ground, he aims it at the Shinobi, who was still too busy wringing information from the old Soviet commander. "Not so fast, British Spy!" The Shinobi quickly flings a shuriken at the Spy, who parries the shuriken with a shotgun blast. "Aah! Gaijin, my leg!". Pulling back his sword, the Shinobi prepares to behead the Spy, still lying prone and reloading his shotgun, when Saveroski used the distraction to quickly draw his service pistol and shoot the Shinobi in the back, and aimed it next at the spy. "What...the Spy...where is that Brit bastard?"

From outside the back room factory workers picked up their machining tools, prepared to defend themselves from whatever commotion is happening at the back room. Bear Cavaliers readied their Danao-45s as the bear _Osong Calle_ knocked down the door with a quick swipe of the paw, its rider aiming his Danao - but the Shinobi's smoke bomb made the room rather too smoky to look into. Galloski crawled out as a few more of his thugs helped him out of the factory into a stolen car hidden by the bushes. The Shinobi slumped dead, killed with a silenced shot to the head by the Spy as he frantically escaped while disguised as a factory worker, wondering how to tell the Allies that the Philippines is still unoccupied by Japan - despite all provided maps saying otherwise.


	56. Battlebase Sabotage & Stuff

_47 hours earlier..._

"Guardia Negra here and ready, commander."

Young and zealous fresh recruits with neither fear nor experience lined up in front of the elite group of soldiers, the respected Guardia Negra whose efforts led to the destruction of the feared Japanese heavy airborne assault platform, the Emperor's Blessing. For these new recruits, the chance to work with the Guardia Negra as a Guardia Negra too is in itself a great honor like little else; after all, these bunch of elite saboteurs used mere recruits to destroy a flying siege machine that curbstomped the famed war philosopher Turiano Carpio himself. Of course, the philosopher proved himself back to life and continued on with a glorious wartime legacy, and is by himself currently holding back a horde of Yuriko Duplicates alone. Well, sort of alone.

One of the seasoned Guardia Negra elites flicks away his cigarette, stands up to the microphone, and briefs the recruits of the current situation of the Philippines. "Guardia Negra recruits, as you may know, the ERS put a giant walker which they call the 'Executioner' up there at Northern Luzon. This is the first time we have seen such a thing, and our Tirradores dela Muerte have no idea where its weak spots are and thus can't kill it. Additionally, our Tirradores' position is compromised by pesky bombardment from a Japanese Battlebase floating just offshore. Also, at Southern Luzon, a bunch of Yuriko Duplicates are swarming over the Constabulary there, and only Turiano Carpio stands between her, and the utter destruction of our capital city of Manila itself."

The microphone is then passed to another Guardia Negra elite, who updates them about the condition of the two other major island groups of the Philippines: the Visayas, and Mindanao. "They're OK!", and raises a pair of thumbs-up while grinning and shaking his head stupidly.

He then snaps into a formal composure and continues the briefing. "Now you recruits, your mission is to wreak havoc on the Battlebase, while we talk about how to contain the Executioner. Yuriko Duplicates are being handled well by Turiano Carpio, according to his field secretary, and does not want the rest of the Constabulary to interfere with his research..."

A recruit interrupts. "Sir, are you telling us that the Yuriko Duplicates threat is just mere research to Mr. Carpio sir?"

"Yes, and crazy as it may seem, it's better to not interfere with his research. Seeing how his research led to our very own ultimate weapon the Lawful Annihilator, it's better to leave him be. At least your minds are shielded from his Philosophy of War lessons...now where were we? Ah, the plan..."

_Now...in the Red Alert 3 alternate universe of course..._

A vague number of captured Yari minisubs were released from an undisclosed Philippine Naval Shipyard, each containing an unknown number of Guardia Negra agents. Diving very close to shore to take advantage of the uneven underwater terrain against SONAR, they sail stealthily closer, and then much closer, towards the vaunted Battlebase, whose armor is virtually impervious to all conventional weapons. But then, the Guardia Negra is created to conduct unconventional warfare, and they are good at it. Finally, the captured Yari BRP-577 breaks radio silence.

"This is Burp-577, we are moving in to the deployed ore node A3. Burp-570, do you copy?"

An obviously Japanese guy replies. "Herro? Huuu is thizz?"

The crew of BRP-577 looked at each other in shock. The Yari minisubs they are using apparently had their radios encrypted according to the original Imperial Japanese Navy configuration, meaning that they could tap into the Battlebase's transmissions - but are themselves being listened to.

One of them whispered to the radioman. "Perhaps if we go back behind the rock?" The radioman replied. "If we lose radio contact again, they'll get suspicious and find us. That might jeopardize our mission!"

"Yari Submarine Numbaer 22, what does 'Berrp-five-seven-seven mean?"

The radioman grits his teeth and blows air through it. "Sir *_kxzzt*_ you're *_kxzzt*_ breaking up. *_kxzzt*_ Radio damaged *_kxzzt* _requesting emergency dock *_kxzzt*_"

The crew waited for an intense thirty seconds, wondering whether the Japanese would send a Naginata Cruiser to kill them, or a Shogun Battleship to ram them, or a pack of Yaris to sink them and find the other Filipino Yaris. They don't even know where their fellow Guardia Negra are. Finally the Japanese radioman replies in a slightly funny voice.

"Ok. Fiffty meters awray from your currrent locration there is an underrwaterr dorr leading to the contrrol room of Terrret 3. The exterrnal overrrride communications dorr one. Diverrs would salvage your Yari's orange box later; we couldn't afford to lose any more Yari sailors due to their suicide tactics."

BRP-577 went forth as the other captured Yari submersibles kept themselves hidden, smartly checking their radio frequencies first. When the other Filipino submariners realized that their radios are configured similarly to the BRP-577, they withdrew from the plan and instead hid at where they are, passively intercepting radio signals and transmitting them to the higher-ups by their militarized encrypted cellphones. The lone submersible BRP-577 thus went alone, towards the odd underwater door. Once there the Guardia Negra swam up and opened the door, entering the Battlebase. They then took their weapons from the waterproof Ziploc bags, unwrapped the waterproofing Scotch tape from their guns, and then went on sneaking around the Battlebase heavily armed and with no idea where they exactly are going; all they know is that they are infiltrating the Battlebase with great ease. Also, that according to the Japanese radioman, they are somewhere near the control panel for one of the feared Wave-Force Triguns, and if they saboteurs could mess with it, there would be one less tri-cannon bombarding the Filipino defenders.

The Japanese radioman was proud of himself for saving the lives of his fellow Japanese directly by doing his job well...until he realized that broken submarine radios do not go "*_kxzzt*" _like that. He stood up from his chair and sprinted towards the nearest alert button, a good fifty meters away from his spot, leaving behind critical radio transmissions from the battleship _Kure_ as it sailed blindly into a Radar Boat. As he was racing out of his chair the Guardia Negra are already unwrapping their guns from their Scotch Tape bindings. By the time he pressed the alert button, the Guardia Negra are still in the process of unwrapping their guns of Scotch tape. And by the time the Guardia Negra readied their weapons, elite Imperial Warriors were just behind the next bulkhead door, warming up their swords.

What occurred next was horrific. The Guardia Negra that managed to infiltrate the Battlebase were mere recruits, barely trained in weapons use, and are not exactly in military tip-top shape. Indeed, most generals, even the elderly ones, could benchpress heavier weights than any of them. So when they were trying to open the door, it took three of them just to make the large metal doorknob-thing to budge, while an amateur Guardia Negra hacker is trying to access the whole Battlebase computer system from the fingerprint scanner beside the door, just like in the movies.

Somehow, by sheer luck alone (the hacker used his birthday as password) managed to unlock the door as the rest of the Guardia Negra recruits were ramming the door with their shoulders out of frustration. With the force of five annoyed flabby people the bulkhead door suddenly swung open, crushing an Imperial Warrior and shocking the rest as the Guardia Negra tumbled over each other. Charging up his sword, one of the Imperial Warriors quickly plunged it into the pile of bumbling recruits, impaling all of them into the cold, hard nanosteel floor. The hacker, seeing this, dropped his computer and ran away, though not very far as accurate firepower from a Kinetic Carbine utterly ripped him apart. The virus he tried to mess the Japanese computers with were blocked by the installed antivirus anyway, so the hacker's efforts were in vain. Overall, for an unknown number of Guardia Negra agents, all dead, the only damage they inflicted on the elite Japanese forces defending the Battlebase was a nasty bruise to an Imperial Warrior. The Japanese divers who found the Yari found the minisub swamped, and so decided to ditch it at the seafloor.

Meanwhile, the Guardia Negra elites back at base opened for themselves another bottle of beer for a job well done. The disturbance caused by the BRP-577 made the battleship _Kure_ crash into a Radar Boat as a radioman scrambled to the alarm button, leaving both without directions until it was too late. Off-shore bombardment from the Battlebase's feared Tri-guns stopped, allowing the Tirradores dela Muerte to shoot the Executioner's legs, crippling its mobility. A lieutenant was sent from Philippine High Command, who had some problems with this set-up though.

"But sir, despite the mobility-kill, the Executioner now became a giant...thing defending First Mate Bara's base, which is now collecting the ore from which a land base could commence an assault!"

A Guardia Negra elite put down his beer bottle. "Oh, are they? Tell them that First Mate Bara has some problems with...credits now."

An obviously confused lieutenant asks, expectedly. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know what those odd trucks with limited Chronosphere devices, or those ridiculously tough - and empty - tanks with a machine gun do?"

"They are combination tractors-dump trucks."

"Chronospheres on tractors? I don't think so. Now, if you would see their base, those are the ore, stored in nice WROC depots on land."

"Go on..."

A tremendous explosion suddenly ripped through through the walls of the Well-Refined Ore Corporation ore depot, blasting pieces of heavy ore-transfer cranes all over. The ore was scattered all over Commander Bara's base, her Imperial Ore Collectors shattered into bits of nanosteel, her troops impaled by fast shrapnel of flying credits. Some tanks had large chunks of ore embedded into them, rendering them useless, while Jet Tengus flying nearby had ore dust enter their engines...and ignite inside them, blowing them up in mid-air. Chopper-VX's had their blades badly dinged by chunks of ore, with some pilots killed by pieces of ore arcing into their canopies and smashing into them. The Tsunami tanks that managed to survive the ore explosion had difficulty going to the damaged Mecha Bay; with all that ore on the field their tanks' narrow treads simply can't tread properly. Commander Bara had little time to duck as a piece of ore whizzed through the glass window and into the space where her head would have been.

The lieutenant was horrified, less due to the ore shrapnel brutality than the thought of ore being wasted. "The ore!"

"Lieutenant, we have tried out those tractors; they seem to be specialized in digging corpses, or ore, or landmines from the raw ground itself. Since it would be weird to have an undertaker vehicle with a Chronosphere, I think they are miner vehicles..."

The lieutenant's face brightened up, somewhat. Confused, but lighter.

The Guardia Negra continued. "WE could use the ore, on the ground, but they can't. And believe me, we're finding ways to get them from the sea as well." Smiling confidently at this 'new' Filipino innovation to strategy, the Guardia Negra elite then took another swig of beer and called it a day.


	57. We're Never Done Quite

Commander Bara is in dire straits. Once again, a Japanese amphibious landing in the Philippines has been foiled, a trend that Commander Ninja (not his real name) started when his initial landing force was blown sky-high by a massive Super Reactor explosion.

With the Guardia Negra saboteurs having blown up the ore nodes, with another team of Guardia Negra saboteurs disabling the _Chrysanthemum_'s off-shore bombardment triguns, and with ferocious Filipino resistance building up as more and more troops are drawn away from the Yuriko-horde battlefront, her situation was clearly hopeless. The only thing that is preventing the Filipinos from dislodging her completely is the mobility-killed Shogun Executioner blocking the way into her base, swinging down their powerful swords on any Filipino force that would venture too near. With its feet quite damaged by Tirradores fire, the proud assault walker was merely a sitting duck, incapable of closing in on the Filipino positions.

For the Filipinos, morale was rather high. True, the Executioner is still without doubt a credible threat despite its immobility, but at least the supposed massive Japanese invasion was stalled. And since everyone wanted a nice, quick conclusion to this battle which the Japanese had clearly lost, the Constabulary High Command activated one of their highest-tiered Top Secret protocols.

"Signal Number 4 Cloud Seeding protocol activated."

The lieutenant then swiftly called the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical, and Astronomical Services Administration... in short the Philippine versions of the Weather Bureau, the Geological Bureau, and NASA combined. Twirling the telephone cord sweetly, she asked them kindly to perform greatly intensive cloud seeding at the Japanese base. Apparently, PAG-ASA agreed.

The PAG-ASA then deployed its single unique high-speed cloud-seeding jet plane, which ironically is the most technologically advanced airplane the Filipinos had. While the Philippine Constabulary's Lamoks are being slowly upgraded from their supercharged piston engines to basic jet engines, the PAG-ASA airplane was a one-off superplane that is rumored to actually be an Artemis Bomber prototype. No one really understood how the Weather Bureau, of all possible government institutions, procured such a plane, nor do the bureaucrats care how a questionable purchase like that could be done. Seeing that the plane has been in the PAG-ASA inventory for years performing mundane cloud-seeding duties, one can't help but wonder about its very nature and existence. Or how useful it could have been in Constabulary service instead. Nonetheless, PAG-ASA doesn't want to give up its only cloud-seeding workhorse, and instead just provides (rather faulty) weather forecasts, and the Cloud Seeding series of Top Secret protocols.

Still, despite the Philippine Constabulary being seemingly shortchanged by their current deal with PAG-ASA, they had to admit: the superplane in PAG-ASA hands allowed them to turn simple cloud seeding missions into rapid tactical interdictions no matter how far away the target may be. One such memorable action is during Operation Lukso, where it defended Commander Mabini's Aurora Transport airship fleet from being decimated by Jet Tengu squadrons merely by intensive cloud seeding. The cloud seeding was that intense that it created a dark, angry, and very highly-charged violent tropical storm that obscured the airships and short-circuited the Japanese aircraft with intense lightning strikes. More often though are the lower-ranked protocols for Signals Number 1, 2, and 3, with the intensity ranging from a weakly sufficient storm just enough to black out unprepared radar systems for Signal Number 1, to slightly more intense storms with enough rainfall that impede enemy progress in addition to disabling enemy radar for Signal Number 2, to Signal Number 3 where stronger storms shock and damage enemy airborne units, in addition to doing all that the lower storm signals do. Signal Number 4 is simply a much stronger version of Signal Number 3, but able to smite surface-based units as well.

And the deliverer of the mighty torrents of a Signal Number 4 storm is in the PAG-ASA cloud-seeding airplane, adjusting helmets while having a chat with Ground Control.

Pressing the comm on, the pilot talks in a cool voice reminiscent of Red Alert 2 Harrier pilots. "This is Sparrow 1, ready for Signal Number 4 at..."

"We hear you Sparrow 1, just fly the damn plane will you! _You_'re the only pilot around here..."

Sparrow 1's face dropped. Having a callsign for Sparrow 1 is maybe one of the coolest things to have as a pilot, and not just a mere Cessna or Polikarpov pilot, but an actual pilot of one of the fastest aircraft in the country, maybe even the whole world! Of course, being the _only_ pilot of the _only_ plane of the institute that consists mainly of scientists who can care less for callsigns and such does mean that Sparrow 1 has to simply go by the birth certificate nickname when talking to the PAG-ASA people, but once in the plane...Sparrow 1, just Sparrow 1. No other name does better than a callsign.

"Sparrow 1, stop daydreaming and fly the plane already!" Behind Sparrow 1 was Dr. Torres, perhaps one of the dourest, most boring of the scientists at PAG-ASA. The doctor personifies the Weather Bureau grumpy-scientist stereotype that other scientists all over the world are trying to combat, but Dr. Torres doesn't care, instead reveling, living, even breathing the whole stereotype. Nonetheless, the doctor is good, indeed very good in preparing the proper and exact reagents for the desired level of cloud-seeding, skilled at spotting cloud formations and wind directions, and a master at mentally judging which cloud formations would produce the exact amount of rain to be carried by the wind to the exact destination. Quite simply, Dr. Torres is the conductor, and the weather is the orchestra. Of course, this puts the doctor at odds with the actual weather forecasters at PAG-ASA, who discovers their predictions go wildly off course as random pieces of cloud and wind fly hundreds of miles off-course in some odd sort of butterfly effect, but then this also is the reason why Japanese weather forecasters are getting a lot of flak when reporting Philippine weather. Indeed, it has been said all over the world that predicting weather in the Philippines is a sure way to lose a career as a reputable weather scientist, all due to Dr. Torres' meddling with the weather to conjure rains and typhoons at all the wrong places.

The plane cruises some few hundred kilometers off the Japanese base when a dark and angry formation of cumulonimbus clouds drift by.

"Pilot, fly lower, that's our target clouds. A nice wind is blowing to our right of sufficient velocity to deliver these clouds to the Japs..."

Manning the bombsight, Dr. Torres aims his cloud-seeding concoction bomb at the cloud. The existence of an actual bomb bay, complete with bomb sight, on the plane raised suspicions on its true nature, but the issue died down eventually. After all, once out of media spotlight, out of public consciousness, right?

"Gerät released. Now quickly fly back pilot; I've gotta pee!"

With a glum face Sparrow 1 tipped the airplane's wings and flew back to the airfield. Much as flying the plane longer would be really nice, the plane is just so fast that entire battlefields could be spanned in merely the blink of an eye. But then, the massive speed is nice, since almost instantly the clouds they just dive-bombed charged up and puffed towards the doomed Japanese base, and the stricken Shogun Executioner...

Meanwhile, an elite Imperial Warrior was having a smoke at Commander Bara's base. Or rather, he was trying to have a light, because the winds suddenly picked up for no apparent reason and he couldn't get his cheap plastic lighter to ignite long enough before being extinguished by very sudden gusts of wind. Not even focusing a magnifying glass on such a sunny day like that seemed to help; the wind just seemed too humid all of the sudden.

"Stupid weather forecaster. Stupid weather."

Out of sheer exasperation, he gripped his carbine and aimed at the skies, unloading a few rounds into the skies while cursing it. "CAN'T YOU GIVE A GUY A CHANCE TO LIGHT UP?"

_BZZZZZZZzzzz...t!_

From out of the blue lightning streaked towards his carbine. The shock was such that the Imperial Warrior was knocked back hard, electrocuted, and very dead, charred, lightened up. Ironically he dropped his cigarette, which remained unlit; not singed even. The dark clouds then loomed over the doomed base, and began to strike down the tallest structure there is: Commander Bara's (radarless) Command Center...

But not quite. There is a Shogun Executioner nearby standing nearby a good 10 stories or so taller than the Command Center. Standing tall, acting as a giant three-headed humanoid lightning rod, it is struck mercilessly by the Top Secret protocol lightning strikes. Its dormant legs begin to seemingly give way under the staggering strikes surging through its nanometal, but at the same time the sheer amount of electricity flooded its latent circuits, powering up its repair mechanisms. Cracks on the Executioner's legs began to mend by themselves as internal repair bots are awakened by such a massive surge of energy.

Slightly repaired, the Shogun Executioner takes a step forward...


	58. The Fabulous Mr Golgi

The Constables were sleeping soundly when it struck. A massive sword, about the length of a Soviet bread line and as hot a Soviet Gastroburner, quickly sliced through the tent where the Constables stayed, collapsing it while burning it at the same time. For the light sleepers among the Filipinos, they were awakened, rather annoyed, for a short while as their tent collapsed, thinking that rainwater will get into their clothes and equipment again.

In that split second where a dying man's mind goes to overdrive, they were able to notice that the rainwater wasn't seeping in from the crack in the tent; it was turning to steam, as a hot presence descended upon the burnt crack of their tent very quickly. The hot presence was as black as the moonless night itself, but was rendered visible as its outline was drawn by the raindrops sizzling on its surface; it looked largely like the tip of a fountain pen, only largely. And it burned; oh it did burn so hot that their corneas melted like baked cheese and their skin charred as the interstitial fluid steamed out through the cracks. Their minds had but milliseconds to realize what is happening. Needless to say, it was their last memory.

Meanwhile, far, far away from the rampaging Shogun Executioner, a busy businessman with a penchant for arms and mods has finally opened up his first forward base operation. Working in a dilapidated, ramshackle building reminiscent of a gigantic airship hangar, only with retractable roofs, he opens his massive gates to his first customer. The businessman finally opens his doors for the first time, ready to greet the hordes of soldier-customers with nice new mods.

"Hi! I'm Mr. Golgi, and welcome to the G-App. In here we can make you harder, better, faster, stronger. We could modify everything you are equipped with to suit whatever is your want and need! Please, come in, come in and garrison this building. So, what can I do for you?"

A lowly Constable was there, standing. "Hi. My officer sent me here for the Constable Mod. II equipment?"

Mr. Golgi was rather unimpressed by his first customer, but then, businesses like these ought to start small, right? "Which, the heavy machine gun or the battle rifle?"

"The heavy machine gun. Oh, and some grenades instead of this Danao for a secondary armament please."

"Sure thing. Oh, the only grenades we have are the typical though; we don't yet have facilities to store better grenades. So...that would be twenty credits for that."

The Constable looked at Mr. Golgi long and hard. "Twenty? But...that's expensive! What other weapons do you have?"

Mr. Golgi motioned towards a large wall where his weapons are, displayed nicely, slung on some post, or standing on their butts.

"How much if with the firebombs instead?" The Constable inquired, pointing towards a bunch of beer bottles with rags on their mouths.

Mr. Golgi sighed, the poor Constable's stinginess using up all his time. "Fifteen credit..."

"Deal!" Slapping some credits on the table, the Constable quickly grabs the machine gun and some ammo, and a bunch of firebombs.

Mr. Golgi watches as the Constable walks out of his building, lugging around the heavy machine gun, with several fire bombs tied on his hip. Certainly a satisfied customer, Mr. Golgi thinks as he looks forward to the next one, which is a severely crippled Martel barely moving into the hangar. One of its sparks hit a rag on the unlucky Constable's firebomb, combusting the poor guy. The businessman notes to himself to never stock firebombs next time, until his train of though is stopped by the tank commander. "Hey there, my tank needs fixing!"

Never one to stomach comments on poor customer service from his shop, Mr. Golgi quickly calls on his men to fix the tank up. For free.

Just then a bunch of Grizzly tanks, turrets removed and extra armor plating attached to conform to the Hammer tank's standard armor protection at the expense of speed [also to Hammer tank-levels], roll into the building. Armed with heavy machine guns by default, these tank hulls are much, much cheaper to deploy into the field compared to that of other nations' tanks, but to gain proper tank-like firepower they have been instructed to drive without heavy weapons, not even the TS1 Tsarsky Leech Beam, towards Golgi's store across the street to get slapped on with the typical Martel Javelin-Spyglass rocket-targetter system. The team commander of the tanks waived the Leech Beam though, to save on costs, and requested that the extra armour on their tanks be removed, to make their tanks less sluggish. Normally in other countries the troops would have to comply with standard tanks, but due to the relative ease of logistics for Mr. Golgi the tanks could instead be customized to some extent, together with troops and airplanes.

Indeed, the fact that they could customize their units to make them more effective situations seems to be the great advantage of the Filipinos over their enemies. That fact was not lost to a battalion of 70 Bear Cavaliers, who were requested to attack tanks instead. They, _all_ of them crowded into Mr. Golgi's facility, swapping their venerable Danaos for Javelin launchers, for a reasonable price. They then all charged out, towards a bunch of Mecha Tengus expecting easy, meaty prey. Oh how wrong they are when they discover that weapons can be swapped so easily...

Just then a squadron of Lamok landed, all into the hangar, somehow fitting due to the rather large nature of the structure compared to the puniness of the Lamok. "Mr. Golgi, good to see you here in business. Now look, our commander just lost her money-making facility, and kinda needs some credits to make a new one. We're here to sell our Spectrum Cannons for the money; besides more often than not we just spy on enemies without firing a single shot!"

Mr. Golgi thinks about it for a few minutes. Spectrum Cannons are not really that easy to manufacture in the first place, with most of them actually looted from the large abandoned American base at Angeles City, a hundred or so kilometers away from Manila. The Lamoks are being used anyway to merely passively scout; they surely don't need the heavy and expensive weapons for reconnaissance right? It was a good deal, but then he had other things in mind.

"Would you like to sell a plane instead? You might need your weapons just in case you see an opportunity to strike and interdict."

The pilots talked to themselves for a little while, and then finally agreed. In that way, Mr. Golgi bought his first airplane.

After numerous more transactions and modifications, and even more discoveries on what weapons should not be anymore fielded, Mr. Golgi wiped his brow. The day is finally over; he could rest now and leave the operation of his facility to his subordinates, while he focuses the operation of the next G-App structure to be built, all the way to the forward bases. It seems to be a success, and already he is planning to have multiple G-app per base for a continuous stream of upgraded units...at a cost of course


	59. Till With a Superheated Plow

"Sir! They've got the Executioner back! Requesting support immediat..._rubble sounds all over_" Then static, the eerie sound of static, hushed the room. Hundreds of TV screens on the floor, displaying data from all over the active fronts the Constabulary is fighting in, suddenly shifted their displays to the approximate location of the destroyed forward base. An officer stood up, cleared his throat, and begun the discussion.

"Gentlemen, as you may see here, the only thing separating the Shogun Executioner from our main base in that region is a long, narrow stretch of land, most certainly the best terrain to set up a defensive line to contain the Executioner. Of course, the Executioner itself is designed specifically to break through such defensive lines, as we have seen in the initial amphibious invasion..."

One of the other officers interjected. "Isn't the Executioner amphibious? Shouldn't we worry about it swimming towards us instead?"

"No, I don't think so. It doesn't seem to be able to hit submerged targets, so our Lapu-Lapu fleet should be able to kill that thing while taking minimal damage in return, if any. Now, any other questions?"

A third officer then asked the zinger. "So...what do we do now to contain the Executioner?"

The high officers discussed intensely among themselves, but weren't able to reach a logical solution. A tiny voice from the back finally broke the strategic mumbling. "Er, airstrike?" A junior CO feebly suggested; the officers quickly looking at the junior CO. "Er, if it's okay with you?"

Three hours after that discussion ended, a squadron of Lamoks was assembled. However, unlike the squadrons of other air (or mecha) forces, the Lamoks were clearly different from each other. While the other air squadrons would have a rather homogenous fleet of aircraft for easy logistics, differing only in their crew's competencies in repair and airmanship, Lamok squadrons are rather variable in appearance, and more importantly, capabilities. Ever since Mr. Golgi has set up shop in modifying any Filipino military unit possible the various commands have modified their units according to their liking. Thus, a squadron would have a "vanilla", or stock Lamok, the one with the default uprated Lycoming engines and all that. Others would have a 'left-handed' Lamok, which is perfectly like a normal Lamok except that the Spectrum cannon is mounted on the other side of the airplane. There would be a Lamok with a puny purring jet engine instead of the original Lycoming engine, allowing the already-quick Lamok to even go faster while still being stealthy enough to be virtually undetectable. Other Lamoks would have an extra bomb rack for carrying _two_ Firestorm bombs instead of one; they are so slow that they earned the moniker of "VindicKirov", for combining the two-bomb capacity and RTB necessity of the Allied Vindicator CAS airplane with the apparent slowness of the Soviet bombing blimp. More extreme versions would have up to eight Firestorm bombs jammed in just about every place in and out of the airplane no matter how ridiculous; these are the "Cent'ry (pronounced as "sentry") Bombers"; they are so slow that they are more useful in the role of base defense as flying sentries, and if used in an air strike, they would take a century before actually getting to the target. Interestingly, other Lamoks would mount more exotic weapons like an actual Tesla Coil, pried off from a Stingray. This weapon system is so large that it must be mounted on the rear of the airplane, sticking out like a sore thumb, or more aptly, like a particularly large and insufficiently expelled turd. Despite being butt-ugly, this warplane modification still does exactly what an ordinary Lamok can do; only it shoots (or farts) from its tail instead of its side.

The odd bunch of Lamoks was then loaded with their complements of Firestorm Bombs to burn the Shogun Executioner once and for all, no quarters. For a moment, the aerodrome became largely devoid of its staff except for Ground Control, largely because they are afraid that the Cent'ry Bombers would suddenly tip to a side, crash, and engulf the entire building in a massive conflagration.

It didn't. None of the Lamoks crashed while taking off from the Aerodrome. The staff members breathed a sigh of relief as they hurried back to the Aerodrome to resume work.

A scout Lamok, removed of its Spectrum cannon and totally unarmed except for the crew's own personal pistols, finally found the Shogun Executioner. The other Lamoks then flew towards the siege walker, their crews sure of the monstrosity's destruction. After all, not even the Executioner can withstand the fury of all the Firestorm Bombs they carry. Well, if the Cent'ry Lamok can keep up, that is.

In that Cent'ry Lamok, the pilot and the gunner were chatting a bit. "Slow day isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's a combat mission in a light strike plane and still it's a slow day. Whose idea was it to spend all those credits on bombing bays? I mean, we have multiple bombs loaded under the wings, we have bombs precariously tied to the sides of the airplane with rope, we even have bombs blocking the door, and I myself am sitting on a bomb. They cut out an opening through the floor of this plane, and expect me to hold on to the ceiling straps while we drop bombs from within the cabin itself? This is insane!"

"It could be worse you know..."

"The scouting Lamok could have at least carried one!"

Just then, the third crew member, the engineer/duct-tape repairs person, motioned to a small speck at a distance. "Guys, Jap dragonfly."

The gunner looked over. "That's cute." Realization dawned upon them soon enough though.

"...OH SHI...WE'RE SPOTTED!" Surely enough the Filipinos' looted Yari submersibles stationed near Commodore Dohson's Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_ intercepted new Japanese communication signals, indicating that one of the Battlebase's elite Tengu squadron jumped into jet mode, likely dispatched to shoot down the Lamok. The Jet Tengus then roared their jet engines at full blast towards the doomed Fiipino airplane.

The engineer grabbed the gunner, yelling "SHOOT IT DOWN!" The gunner then wrenched himself off the engineer's panicky arms, readied the Spectrum cannon, and shot the tiny dragonfly with ease from the very-slowly flying airplane. The crew then breathed a sigh of relief...until they looked outside the window and saw the pesky scout dragonfly still flying despite being scorched very badly. Apparently the Burst Drone was merely _shot_, not shot_ down_.

Though the spectrum beam has burnt through most of the drone's body and wires, the heat of the beam did have some wires soldered back to working condition, leaving the tiny craft with some level of functionality as it soldiered on. For the Cent'ry Lamok crew the situation was becoming more and more desperate; Jet Tengus were closing in towards them. The panicky engineer was already calling the Constabulary chaplain requesting for their Last Rites, despite the Viaticum being impossible, when a pathetic and overly underwhelming "**plak!**" slightly reverberated the skies. It was a faint sound, likely an unimportant one, but it was followed by the digitized screaming of a shot-down mechanical dragonfly. The pilot, who was aiming his scoped service revolver from the cockpit window, now blew the smoke from it and holstered it, his other hand still clutching the controls. His crewmembers watched in awe. "How did you do that? Killing that tiny robot with just your handgun?"

The pilot just laughs. "Up here, I'm a pilot. On the ground, I'm an elite Tirradores. I simply can't miss."

His crew members were shocked. "So...what are you doing up here flying instead of down there sniping?

"I'm here to avenge the death of my fellow Tirradores, who were in the forward base which that monstrosity stomped on. I don't know its weak points though, so to even but simply damage that thing I signed up for this operation. This time, it's personal..."

At the skies above the Shogun Executioner, there was airborne wood, and lots of it. The singly-loaded Lamoks in all various configurations got to the Executioner earlier than the doubly-loaded Lamoks, but the heavier aircraft were still able to catch up. Predictably, both types of aircraft were very far in advance of the Cent'ry Lamoks, which made them too far away to be worth waiting for.

The command Lamok's radio crackles to life. "Are you Lamoks in position now?" The junior CO, his reputation and career at stake, inquires on the status of the squadron from his command center all the way at the squadron's home base.

"Yes sir, we're almost in position, except for the Cent'rys which can't keep up. They also reported a bunch of Jet Tengus and Burst Drones in the vicinity."

The junior CO gulps nervously, his superiors watching behind his back. "Now then, we don't have to worry too much about the Tengus I hope. Just bomb and run according to my instructions. You remember the plan?"

The squadron leader reiterates the plan on radio. "Yes sir. The plan is to drop all bombs on where the target stands while the scout Lamok zaps it with the Stasis Ray device we got from a Terror Drone; keeps the Executioner in its rightful place: right smack in the midst of the resulting multiple stacked firestorms."

Wistfully the squadron leader's gunner adds. "Hopefully the intensity of the multiple Firestorm bombs would not just incapacitate the Executioner nor render it irreparable, but even melt its nanosteel frame into a thick and viscous slurry. Everyday I'm shovelin'..." He then dances a little jig before retaining his composure.

Just then elite Battlebase-based Jet Tengus quickly flew into the Lamok formation, with a swarm of Burst Drones accompanying them. Before the rest of the Lamoks could notice, the Imperial squadron shot down the scout Lamok, ruining the junior CO's plan.

"Lamoks! Dogfight! Drop your bombs now! Damn, we'll just have to strafe that Executioner then..."

All the Lamoks then simultaneously dropped their Firestorm bombs all over the Shogun Executioner, quickly creating a massive inferno beneath them while they fight off the enemy. And just in time too, as a squad of Chopper-VX that came with the Jet Tengus have just transformed into Striker-VX...right into the firestorm. Needless to say, the chicken walkers' demise was very quick as their spindly little legs melted into goo before the rocket pods could aim, and then the rocket pods themselves burst into a brilliant flame, feeding the fire even more with oils and rocket fuel.

"Lamoks! Formation!"

Vanilla Lamoks flew side-by-side with their left-sided counterparts, while the Tesla Lamoks with their rear-mounted coils covered the rear of their formations as they commenced intense zapping of the Jet Tengus. The Jet Tengus however noticed that most of the Lamoks were right-handed vanilla, and that meant that the formation had too much right-sided Lamoks to partner with the few left-handed Lamoks. Braving the few whole formations, they then flew towards the unarmed side of the single Lamoks, picking them off with little retribution from their targets and quickly causing chaos among the Filipino ranks.

"Damn they're on our wrong side!" A vanilla Lamok gunner looks behind him as a Jet Tengu opens fire on the wooden skin of their airplane. "Wait, look, another Lamok!"

A jet-powered Lamok quickly flies in a wider concentric circle relative to the aforementioned Lamok's circular flight path, its gunner taking aim at the Jet Tengu's vulnerable rear. The Jet Tengu pilot notices a multicolored beam behind him and tries to take evasive maneuvers, but before his airplane could respond the Spectrum beams have already welded the dual tails in place and lit up the fuel lines. Three Jet Tengus then flew into the jet Lamok's unarmed side instead, their burst autocannons raking through the wooden airplane, bullets ripping through the vital organs of the crew inside.

Struggling to keep the formation tight, the squadron quickly thinks of a new formation. "Make a donut around the Executioner! Right Lamoks take outer ring, left Lamoks take the inner ring! Tesla Lamoks...spiral around the donut."

In what may be considered a marvel of squadron formation, especially for a force of wooden aircraft under heavy fire, the surviving Lamoks quickly created just that: a torus of flying death that shot dangerous Spectrum beams at any Jet Tengu that dared fly too close, while exposing individual Lamoks to less autocannon fire as the next Lamok flies in to take the damage, and the shot. After losing three elite Jet Tengus though, the Japanese force realized that they needed new tactics to combat this new formation.

"Tengus! We need a new formation!"

"I believe we should go back to our maritime roots in this battle. This must be where we cross the T, don't you think, leader-san?"

"What are you talking about? These are agile fighter aircraft, not lumbering battleships."

"But leader, the inner formation of the torus has a smaller concentration of aircraft, meaning that we would take less damage at the center of the torus provided the torus's center isn't that small that all aircraft in the inner formation fires at our airplane there."

"I don't get it. I still think it's better to strafe them from above, against the rays of Amaterasu!"

"You mean the sun right?"

"Whatever. Just...do it!"

The Tengus then flew up above the Lamok flying circus, and then steeply dived into the formation straight at its center since it looked like a big bull's-eye, strafing the Lamoks as if they are ground targets. The torus formation slowly tilted to a side to bring their Spectrum cannons to bear against the Tengus, but it was too late to encounter the Tengus as they dived straight through the hole of the torus before turning their airplane around to make another pass at the center of the torus, always avoiding the Lamok fire. The daring maneuver did pay off for the Japanese as the left-handed Lamoks that made up the center of the torus were all decimated, they being nearest to where the Tengus strafed.

At the same time, the Tesla Lamoks with their rear-firing cannons intercepted the line the Tengus formed by flying through the hole of the torus, quickly destroying some of the enemy Tengus. Despite their brave efforts the damage was already done though, with the inner formation of left-handed Lamoks all destroyed or staggering away from the torus, exposing the unarmed blind sides of the other Lamoks. The formation thus could not be sustained and once again it all returned to the chaotic dogfighting preferred by the Jet Tengu pilots as they doggedly pursued all of their targets, who mostly can't fire back at the tailing Tengus except for the Tesla series Lamoks, who could only hit the target if they are being pursued by it.

The Lamok squadron leader was doing his best to maintain order among his Lamoks, but he is running out of ideas. Thinking about the sheer number of possible flying formations he could form, he cringed, knowing he could use only one to bring his men back to the ground safely. The odd orientation of the Lamoks under his command, mostly the right-handed Lamoks, only made his job harder.

"So many formations, so little time. Infinite number of orientations, but only one – that's it! The infinity sign! It must be able to cover all sides with only right-handed aircraft, and is easy to form."

Grabbing the radio, the squadron leader instructs all his remaining aircraft to their new waypoints, creating a loop of aircraft that resembles the infinity sign. All the while the Jet Tengu pilots were suddenly having difficulty predicting where their targets would fly next, with Lamoks suddenly swerving all over the place in seemingly random directions shooting Spectrum beams at the dumbfounded Tengu pilots, destroying their aircraft and plunging them to their deaths, their corpses falling down already half-charred from the massive Firestorm so hot that even the Shogun Executioner is pinned down trying to stomp the fires around it. Finally the Jet Tengus split in penny-packets, relying on their superior small-unit tactics, discipline, and airmanship to trump their unpredictable singular opponents.

Just when the elite Jet Tengus have killed thirteen Lamoks has the formation been finished, instantly zapping down twelve elite Tengus and badly damaging another fourteen in a spectacular counterattacking light show when the Lamoks' side-mounted Spectrum beam firing angles converged. The Tengu pilots quickly saw why the Filipinos preferred the Spectrum cannon over the Tesla Coil weapon: Spectrum beams blind enemy pilots as well, forcing the Japanese to make wide maneuvers as they attempt to avoid not just Spectrum beams, but also crashing into other aircraft. They could not fire their auto-cannons blindly either for fear of friendly fire, allowing the Filipinos a small timeframe to patch up their Lamoks and maneuver themselves towards the blind sides of the Japanese aircraft.

The Japanese elite pilots were no slouch either; they are aces at their aircraft and are among the best of Japan. Chatting with each other while flying around half-blind, they were able to think of ways to best combat the Filipinos' new strategy, and when they were ready they quickly countered the formation by flying towards just one side of it, bearing concentrated auto-cannon fire on just one point on the loop. The Filipinos also saw an opportunity as well, with the jet Lamoks suddenly darting towards the rear of the Jet Tengus and firing at the vulnerable rear of the VX fightercraft. The loop slowly unraveled as it tried to encircle the bunched-up Tengus, attempting to use the Spectrum beams' dispersion physics to damage multiple aircraft with just one shot, hopefully bringing them down faster.

The key word though is 'hopefully', as some of the Jet Tengu banked towards their three-o'-clock, shooting at the Lamoks that were trying to form half of the encirclement. With that, some of the Lamoks at the loop alternated, trying to close the loop from the other side of the Jet Tengus as well. The Lamok squadron leader was getting quite sure of his plan to finally be able to subdue at long last his flying adversaries, albeit at great cost to his own aircraft, when suddenly HQ called. They wanted the Lamoks to return to base for another bombing run.

The squadron leader was surprised. "What the hell sir? We're already almost..."

"That's an order. Now scoot back to base and ensure that all of your survivors make it."

"Sir, but the Cent'rys havs just arrived!"

"Exactly. Let them drop the bombs, and go back. We can't risk losing any more aircraft." Home Base was being firm this time, and the squadron leader knew what to do.

The Cent'ry Lamoks have finally arrived, dropping their bombs directly over the Executioner, dealing it significant damage in the process. Now much, _much_ lighter, the newly-arrived aircraft screened their battered colleagues as they all tried to retreat together.

Pointing his scoped service revolver at a canopy of the Jet Tengu, the elite Tirradores – Lamok pilot was scanning the skies for his next target. The gunner was sitting on a hammock he tied to the ceiling of their airplane, shooting dazzling Spectrum beams against the pursuing Japanese fighters, while the engineer got busy patching up the plane, swinging from one bomb rack to another.

"Guys, watch this!" The pilot called his crew, and then shot the bulletproof canopy of the Jet Tengu. The revolver bullet hit the metal brace of the canopy then bounced off towards a second Jet Tengu's path straight into the air intake, smashing through the second Tengu's fan and introducing metal shards into its engine. Without control, the airplane sliced into a third Jet Tengu, which in turn broke up into two and with billiard ball-like precision the halves each slammed into a fourth and a fifth Jet Tengu. The first Jet Tengu was not safe either; the force of impact knocked out a loose screw on the canopy's metal brace with such force that the screw drove into the Japanese prototype "_EJECT!_" button of the plane, the ejection seat driving the pilot's head straight into the canopy and splattering it with great gore. The canopy's explosive bolts went off a split second later, shooting the decapitated pilot and his seat straight up before falling - straight into the cockpit of a sixth Jet Tengu and killing its pilot in the process. The first Tengu's canopy, separated from the rest of the downed jet by the explosive bolts, was flung into the path of a seventh Jet Tengu, blocking its pilot's view and causing that plane to fly erratically. When the pesky canopy had finally fallen off, the pilot found himself flying straight into an eighth Jet Tengu, its pilot having just avoided the fifth Jet Tengu's burning fuselage from crashing into his airplane. The fuselage of the first Jet Tengu plowed into a ninth Jet Tengu as well; the Jet Tengus were so clumped up in their pursuit of the fleeing Lamoks that such a chain reaction was inevitable.

The gunner and the engineer watched in amazement as Jet Tengus flew into each other, exploding in midair into tiny little bits of lethal metal. "Guess that's the distraction our flyboys need. Let's go home."

Finally, the destroyed Jet Tengus then crashed all over the Shogun Executioner, the accumulated damage for crashing all increased with the Japanese' Honorable Discharge secret protocol. The Firestorm that contained the Shogun Executioner burned even more intensely with all the fuel falling from the dogfight above, ensuring that the siege walker would be unavailable and inoperable for Japanese forces for a good amount of time. For the Lamok squadron, only half could make it back, and upon landing most of the airframes were so badly rendered brittle by holes that another third of the planes had to be written off and recycled. Nonetheless their mission objectives were accomplished, but the second bombing run is now impossible as well.

The Constabulary still shook their heads. "The Shogun Executioner is still not destroyed! How will we stop it?"


	60. No Royalty Story Filler No 9

Back at HQ, the officers are giving their assessments of the previous Lamok squadron mission.

"A great victory for the Lamok aircrafts; surely you all are amazing. But the one question remains...

How we're gonna supposed to Blow up the Shogon Executioner to Smithereens, I hope you got the answer for that."

The squadron leader looked at his superiors' for their suddenly strange way of speaking, before raising his hands in exasperation. "I don't know sirs; if its answers you need it's always Turiano Carpio you must approach."

The higher-ups looked at each other, discussing indeed, where is that War Philosopher when you need him? Then they suddenly remembered where they left him: fending off an entire horde of Yuriko Duplicates crafted by Dr. Saiko's Yuriko clone. Indeed, how is that single person faring against their whole lot now? Or rather, how multiple copies of that single person are faring against all the Duplicates Yuriko and her superior had at hand?

But before we continue, let me tell you first a story. A wonderful, heartwarming story which you can tell to your offspring one day, when you want them to grow up into roboticists.

Once upon a time there was a Burst Drone. Its name is Miniguirus, in short Mini-Gee. Mini-Gee is a rather kind Burst Drone, very pious to the Emperor. It likes to help the Emperor's troops by scouting around, watching enemy Filipino movements as it transmits from a hockey puck-shaped thing on its back, and in exchange the Emperor's troops direct it to go where it is safe to fly freely. At the end of the day, Mini-Gee then comes home to rest and recharge its batteries, an odd liquid-cell thing containing a blue and an orange fluid inside, after praying to the dear Emperor.

Sometimes, the Emperor's troops carry it along for fishing too, where its ability to see fish formations very well at thirty feet above allow the Emperor's troops to get good fishing spots. In exchange, the Emperor's troops teach the young little robot more about the Emperor, whom the little Burst Drone reveres and loves so much.

Unlike normal Burst Drones, however, Mini-Gee had a highly advanced camera on its dorsum, with a movie-film camera on a swivel mount allowing it to rotate around and around. The high-definition camera could see colour, and even hear sound, wonderfully. Such a modification made it very awkward-looking though, especially compared to its brethren who had their cameras on the head instead, where the eyes are, so all the other Burst Drones laughed at it.

"Haha, what a weird thing on your back! What are you, a camel?"

"Tee hee, come back CamBack!"

So our poor Burst Drone became very, very sad. Why did it have to be different from all the other Burst Drones? Why did the Emperor allow it to be like this? If there was an Emperor as great and kind as he claims to be, he should have helped Mini-Gee, the poor Burst Drone, with its weird back problem, right?

Slowly, the continuous jesting of its fellow Burst Drones made poor little Mini-Gee sadder and sadder. It began to wonder who this 'Emperor' really is, if he is as powerful as the Emperor's troops make him to be. Mini-Gee has never seen the Emperor, who is said to be so powerful that any problem Mini-Gee would have would be gone if it simply approached him.

Soon, after a rough day at mission Mini-Gee is brought back to the Drone pen where it and the other Burst Drones are kept. The usual round of jeering starts again.

"Hey, Mini-Gee, what's up with your back?"

Mini-Gee snubs the other Burst Drone.

"Heh, look at me! Can you do this?" Another Burst Drone taunts Mini-Gee, and then flies, flips, and lands on its back before righting itself again.

Mini-Gee just watches, but deep inside its poor little heart breaks. Other Burst Drones sleep on their backs, still others could slouch against the wall, but not Mini-Gee. It had this stupid camera at the back, which it couldn't figure out what it really is for.

Finally, a bright and shiny Burst Drone flies up to our protagonist mechanical dragonfly. It is the bitchiest little Burst Drone for miles around, and certainly proves that right as it looks at Mini-Gee from head to foot, or dorsal camera to legs. "You look kinda weird. And really stupid. Do you, like, really belong here with us pretty Sunbursts?"

It was the final straw for our Burst Drone. Bursting out of its pen, Mini-Gee flies out crying out into the night, determined to stay away from its fellow Sunburst Drones and their incessant bullying, flying on its own accord without any instructions from the Emperor's troops. It doesn't really know where it's going, but it will try to find the Emperor, and request that the stupid thing on its back be finally removed. It doesn't care about the troops anymore, or whatever. It's going to go straight to the Emperor, to ask and beg, no, to **demand**, that the stupid back hump be removed. Mini-Gee would also want to ask, no, **interrogate**, this...this _Emperor _why he hasn't helped poor little Mini-Gee with its back problem much, _much_ earlier.

Buzzing off into the night without a predetermined flight plan is rather dangerous for Burst Drones though. Their wings had solar panels, to power them up on their whole-day missions, with the battery rather insufficient for days' worth of operation. Plus, it was rainy. It was heavily raining. It was also windy. It was stormy, but not just that; it's a tropical cyclone. With winds straining the very light frame of Mini-Gee, without light to guide its path or power its wings, with rain beginning to slosh all over its intimate components, Mini-Gee felt greatly tired, confused, scared. Then a bright flash of light tore through the night. Mini-Gee saw it.

"Amaterasu..."

The flash of light then struck Mini-Gee, followed by a loud peal. Mini-Gee felt empowered, indeed very much supercharged, before its motor busted suddenly with the sheer electricity surging through Mini-Gee's body as its delicate gossamer wings melted right before the dorsal camera watching. Stripped of flight, Mini-Gee spun out of control into the mud beneath it, its tiny legs broken, its wings molten and wrecked. All it had was that stupid camera on its back, sticking out of the mud, still standing high and proud against the wreck of Mini-Gee, seemingly mocking it in its current condition. On that spot, that very spot, Mini-Gee's brain finally fizzled out, out of despair, leaving only a mere corpse of a Sunburst Drone in the mud, with a dorsal camera that still continuously watched, an undead sentinel of Japan sending what it sees, for its former masters, for the Emperor's troops.

The next day, Mini-Gee's handler was demoted for losing the Miniguirus dorsal camera testbed drone. Losing her position, the handler wept bitterly...for a short while, as a Filipino Paint Sub then bombarded her base as narrated in Chapter 50, leading to mass identity confusion and thus a gigantic friendly fire incident for the Southern Philippines Japanese base which culminated in her death, and a massive nanosteel-and-flesh wreck above Dr. Saiko's underground laboratory. The doctor did not notice this though, because he was still busy with his experiment boosting Yuriko clone's psionic powers with a headcrab Terror Drone interface for the Nanotech Mainframes, until it was too late for Dr. Saiko, his troops, and Mini-Gee's handler.

.

.

.

_The moral of the story is: Everyone is special, but they all still die._

.

.

.

.

Back to the present time, the horde of walking Yuriko Duplicates are going to go against an equally large horde of Turiano Carpios, much to Dr. Saiko's surprise who thought he could play the multiplication game alone. How could that person now _multiply himself_?

"No, it must be an illusion! It's impossible that there could be more TC's! But...but where is the real philosopher anyway?"

He then remembered Mini-Gee the lost Miniguirus prototype, still sending data from its highly-advanced movie camera, towards his underground command center. Running towards the screen, he saw his main adversary the War Philosopher, in a tent. And there was only one of the War Philosopher. And apart from his secretary, the War Philosopher was alone. It could only be serendipity indeed for the Miniguirus prototype to crash-land at the exact site where Turiano Carpio would be making camp, and the real Turiano Carpio at that, and not the gimmicky 'illusion' Turiano Carpioes that are going face-to-face against his Yuriko Duplicate horde, Dr. Saiko thought to himself.

_(Actually, such coincidence could indeed be either serendipity or extreme laziness at the part of the author, if you ask me.)_

"Found you, you bastard. Thought you can fool me with your 'philosophy' tricks? I'll just drop some Yurikoes across by Sudden Transport to your puny little camp and your stage games of self-proliferation would be dead! Hahahahahahaha!"


	61. Operation K25

Dr. Saiko was monitoring the progress of the Yuriko Duplicates as they walked ominously towards Manila. With the Yuriko clone's psionic potential greatly expanded by delegating other mental tasks to gigantic banks of Nanotech Mainframes, she has created thousands of Duplicates, all externally similar to Yuriko, all capable of pulling aircraft down and crushing tanks in mid-air. In battle, the only difference between the organic clone and her psionic puppets, apart from the attire of course, is that the Duplicates could only walk, not levitate above the water, to conserve the Yuriko clone's psionic potential.

The only person stopping him now is just one man, a philosopher, a man whose beliefs are frankly beyond comprehension even to the teenage doctor himself, and indeed is quite a worthy opponent. True, Turiano Carpio may know much about the nature of war given his prolific academic output concerning it, but it's only knowledge that he's got. No technology. No machines. No psionics. No science. Underneath it all, he's just one brain.

Dr. Saiko had, on the other hand, the combined mental capacity of millions of people throughout history whose developments and discoveries had contributed to the development of his Duplicates. If it's a fight of grey matter, Dr. Saiko surely wins; Turiano Carpio is, despite his brilliance, merely just one mind, far paling in comparison to the collective progress of all the brilliant minds of science utilized to create this new weapon. Therefore, this certainly is a curb-stomp battle, especially now that Dr. Saiko has slipped in a contingent of Duplicates via Sudden Transport towards the prototype camera drone Miniguirus's location, where a singular Turiano Carpio and his secretary have set up camp in a tiny tent. He did not care at all for the large contingent of Turiano Carpios facing his Duplicate horde; the doctor was convinced that they were all fake, an illusion designed to deter his horde of Duplicates. After all, how could mere Filipinos be able to create that many clones in such short order, when last he checked there were no cloning facilities in that country? Kill the one real Turiano Carpio, and all the other "Turiano Carpios" would be taken out; after all, killing the leaders before a battle as a tactic has had a good track rate in warfare throughout history.

Through the Nanotech Mainframes interfaced with Yuriko clone's mind, Dr. Saiko was watching through lots of screens what each Duplicate could see, hearing what each Duplicate could hear. Using these Yuriko psi-golems as scouts, together with the Miniguirus as his personal independent 'periscope', he could see the singular Turiano Carpio getting out of camp, dropping one of the pink Fechner's rectangles shortly before traversing ground while carrying various other rhetorical devices in an insufficiently-described manner, the philosopher's megaphones blaring...music?

"That's not philosophy, that's...Kylie?"

Dr. Saiko immediately became suspicious.

"Is that even legal in this story?"

Nonetheless, he tracked his enemy further down the path, roughly going around the Miniguirus, until the philosopher returned to the camp as another Turiano Carpio emerged from the same access to join the first, also dropping the exact same Fechner's rectangle in exactly the same way the first Turiano Carpio dropped his, but this time the first Turiano Carpio picked up the just-dropped rectangle. Both philosophers were discussing something Dr. Saiko couldn't hear very well due to both philosophers playing the same song at the same time, both advancing through the terrain through the same path, via philosophical means. The doctor watched the two philosophers move around his camera, playing the odd Kylie Minogue song for no apparent reason at all, seemingly oblivious to the Miniguirus camera - and their upcoming death at the hands of his incoming Yuriko Duplicates. Tracking them further, Dr. Saiko watched the pair of Carpios returning back to their starting point again, to be joined by a _third_ Turiano Carpio. Watching the odd scene, he noticed that more and more Turiano Carpios emerged as the cycle repeated, all playing the same song with their megaphones. The sound permeated the whole scene so very much that it seemed like a leitmotif.

"Come, come, come into my world..."

Thoroughly perplexed with the scene, Dr. Saiko found it becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate in commanding the duplicates, what with the catchy tune and all the Turiano Carpios were playing. When finally the Duplicates have been dropped off the Sudden Transport, there was now a company of Turiano Carpios moving around, and this quite alarmed Dr. Saiko. He commanded his Yuriko clone to immediately create even more Duplicates on the spot and crush those philosophers before the doctor succumbs to Last Song Syndrome.

So she did.

"...Won't you lift me up, up, high upon your love..."

The doctor smiled a bit at how fitting the lyrics were. "Yeah? I'll let _my _Yuriko lift you high up, so love this! Yuriko, crush these Sairens!"

The newly-formed Duplicates each picked their targets, and immediately lifted them up indeed - to crush the life out of them, in a certainly not-loving manner. The attacked Turiano Carpios nonchalantly tumbled around midair, switching to the next song.

"... Your love's got me going around and around, and it's taking me over...your love's got me tumbling upside-down, and I want you to know it..."

Suddenly, the Duplicates crumbled one after another as more Carpios joined the fray from "off-screen", the intensity of their mere philosophical presence disturbing the Yuriko clone's tenuous psionic hold on her creations.

"Clever girl, think you're right but what's right from wrong?"

Platoons of Duplicates were quickly summoned to overcome the sudden arrival of Carpios when their destabilizing presence on the Duplicates quickly became apparent.

"You did it again, you did it again. Won't you listen to me when I'm telling you it's no good for you..."

Despite the Duplicates lifting away Turiano Carpios as high – and as far away as possible from themselves, sudden philosophical insights began to race across Yuriko clone's mind as the Duplicates transmitted everything they could hear into her brain, and a Duplicate would just collapse every now and then due to Yuriko clone's distracted philosophical musings. Trying hard to focus, pushing her psionic abilities even further, Yuriko clone then lifts the Turiano Carpios to ever-increasing elevations so that she could not hear the philosophy, or the music, that was disrupting her.

"...It's taking me higher, higher, higher off the ground (woooo woooo woooo woooo)..."

She then attempts to kill the Turiano Carpios as quickly as possible by smashing their brains against their cranial bones by sheer G-force, wildly rotating them in an attempt to black them out or kill them.

"I'm...spinning around..."

However, Duplicates would still just fall off from her psionic command, crumbling back into the dust whence they came from. The Turiano Carpios that were held helpless in mid-air by the Duplicates were then released from the psionic attack, and righted themselves upon reaching the ground in a blasé manner.

"...move out of my way..."

Yuriko clone was beginning to lose concentration as the Last Song Syndrome distracted her more and more from her psionics. Desperate, she then forced some more Duplicates into the battlefield to melee the Turiano Carpios instead. This attack was as effective as could be imagined from striking a person who shrugs off rockets with mere philosophy.

"...I know you're feeling me coz' you like it like this..."

The Turiano Carpios quickly looked at each other quizzically, as if telling each other via some sort of high philosophy-type of unspoken communication, that they never meant the lyrics to mean that. Or that. Or that one either. Not at all, no.

Doesn't matter. While Yuriko clone is getting weaker, her Duplicates putting up less and less of a resistance as Yuriko clone struggles to focus her psionic abilities past the Last Song Syndrome in her head, Turiano Carpio has fielded more and more of himselves in such numbers it hit critical mass, forming a sort of philosophical singularity whose force can be felt reverberating the ground itself. As the rest of the Duplicates began fleeing from the Carpios, driven by their creator's primal fears, they look back as the Carpios load a new song into their loudspeakers.

"What's the worst thing that could happen to you?"


	62. New Unit: Chrono Bomb Truck

The torrential monsoon has always been a huge problem for Filipinos. For half a year the skies would always be gloomy, and while the drop in temperature is very much welcome for a tropical paradise like the Philippines, the rain too often eventually feels like a welcomed guest who has been overstaying for five months now and eating up all the host and his family's food. The monsoon rains would often flood the crops, overload the irrigation, cause major flooding on a major street or an entire city, sink ships, and shut down the tourism beaches.

Of course, in times of war the monsoon is but a light drizzle, a mere nuisance for a Filipino soldier; living in a landform that serves as the storm buffer for South-East Asia makes anybody tougher against water, water surrounding the islands, water doing vertical envelopment paradropping from the nimbus clouds, water getting all over the sensitive equipment. Oftentimes the rain is an advantage for the Filipino soldier; while Allied troops would often find themselves at odds with the humid weather rusting their equipment and Soviet Conscripts finding the heat very intolerable, Filipinos are at home in it, thriving in it. Indeed, the new line of battle rifles come with a detachable bullet-resistant umbrella, as effective in stopping carbine rounds as in stopping raindrops.

This time though, the rains acted against the Filipinos' favor. The Japanese, no strangers to neither rain nor beaches, proved to be a match for the Filipinos in their own terrain. Compounded with the fact that the Japanese have much, much better equipment, and the odds are quite indeed stacked against the defenders. Now the Filipinos have to face the Japanese war juggernaut, with what little advantage they had snuffed out by the rain, literally: the Firestorm that kept the Shogun Executioner in check was extinguished by the monsoon. With one step forward it crunched the wrecks of countless aircraft that crashed upon its feet, Tengus, Striker-Chopper VX, and Lamoks.

And standing against the technological fury of the machine was what seems to be a bunch of military-grade street-sweepers, filled with gelled Super Reactor waste products wrapped around a rusty Kirov iron bomb, stabilized with raw ore.

Commander Mabini watched the rest of his battlegroup, all middle-aged truck drivers with families. Do they really know that they are driving are essentially the infamous Bomb Trucks? He sifted through the psychological files. None of the drivers were noted to have any suicidal tendencies at all, they all wanted to live through this war and settle down in post-war Philippines. Some have even made pledges for the planned reconstruction of the country. So why are they all driving Bomb Trucks?

The veteran commander has seen similar trucks before. These trucks were made famous in Libya, where the Communist uprising there involved tens of these trucks loaded with bio-explosive charges straight into the colonists' military base, where the suicide attacks were filmed by the base's new surveillance cameras. When those recordings of the attack were then inadvertently shown in full HD on the 19:00 news, 98% of the foreign population of Libya immediately left the next day. The innovation was then used in various places, such as in Shymkent, Cairo, and Stuttgart-Vaihingen, where the development of ingenious disguises for Bomb Trucks meant that these trucks could not just decimate a small town or a lightly-defended garrison; it could even devastate heavily-defended military bases by striking at where it hurts the most. Indeed, these trucks are powerful, but they still are suicide trucks. Would the drivers be psychologically prepared for their mission? Or would they waste Constabulary money by going chicken at the last moment and driving away all of the sudden?

"Hey, relax, we know what we'll be doing." A man in his mid-forties with a toothy, yellowing grin approaches Mabini. "Here, have a smoke."

"Thanks, but I'll pass. You...you do know what this, this mission leads to, right?"

"Yeah, a faster conclusion to the war, then me and my family could go back, rebuild..."

"But it's a Bomb Truck..."

"Yep! Exactly, this most probably would have the best life expectancy of all the Filipino units."

"You do know that Bomb Trucks are made to explode completely, and seeing how this thing has no special ejection cockpit I am fairly sure that Bomb Truck drivers – you included – most likely will die if this mission succeeds."

"Hey, that's not very much a moralizing speech... sir, but that is understandable. You see, our Engineeros from Mindanao has somewhat modified the truck, made it safer to drive. I'm quite surprised they have not mentioned this in your briefing."

"That's because I haven't been briefed yet. I have just arrived here from a clean-up mission aboard the _Aurora_."

The two were then interrupted by the lieutenant. "Sir Mabini, briefing in a few...it's right now. You may please head to the briefing tent."

After the brief briefing, the Bomb Truck team was already in position. The Executioner was in view, waddling a bit with its legs still rather broken. The middle-aged man was smoking cigarettes double-barreled, while Commander Mabini was still thinking of plans on how to use these newly developed vehicles to good use against such an overmatched foe. In the end, he just threw away all his cares into the wind.

"Hell, these are Bomb Trucks. Just get to the Executioner at full speed and let it go boom."

The commander led his pack of trucks on a brisk pace, supported by a single unarmed Lamok acting as an observer. Two trucks began to move at the sides to assume a classical pincer move, hoping that their trucks would not be hit by the Executioner's first swipe. The gigantic walker has already detected the Constabulary trucks though, and warmed up its giant blades. Commander Mabini could just about make out small specks around the Executioner.

Suddenly the radio blared up. It was from the middle-aged man. "Commander, they have Rocket Angel for escort service! If you wish, I'll try to speed up and draw them away from the Executioner. Don't worry; I got upgraded engines from the Golgi-shop."

Commander Mabini was feeling rather confident in the abilities of the new bomb trucks. "Very well. Do as you wish."

The middle-aged double-cigarette guy then swerved hard and throttled on. The Rocket Angels then chased his Chrono Bomb Truck, and fired a few rockets which slammed directly into the truck, but it was so heavily armored that the double-cigarette guy just shrugged and calmly readjusted the (admittedly useless) rearview mirror while very sharply U-turning his truck. He barreled back towards the Rocket Angels, who cannot believe their luck; they didn't have to pursue the enemy at all now that it's hurtling back towards them at high speed. Launching a massive cluster of rockets at the truck for an easy kill, they then flew towards it to finish it off just in case the enemy street-sweeper truck survives – as if that is possible. Double-cigarette guy didn't seem care for his chances of survival as he just drove through the missile swarm as it tore off bits and pieces of his truck: the side mirrors, the vents, the tracks, and entire roof (with the rear-view mirror included).

Double-cigarette guy then braked in the middle of the clump of Rocket Angels hovering above him. Having a good view of all the Rocket Angels above him from the hole where the roof was, he smiled as he motioned obscene gestures with his two hands, before curling one of them in a fist and punching a photograph of the Emperor on his dashboard, taped over a big red button.

The Rocket Angels immediately detected the Emperor's image through their targeting helmets, and the insolent gaijin desecrating it with his filthy fist. They then fired their whole barrage of rockets, with overwhelming prejudice, at the grinning, probably senile old man and his shattered street-sweeping truck as it unexpectedly disappeared in a whiff of blue ether. Instantly the truck was whisked back to base with double-cigarette guy on board as Engineeros ran over to repair the "slight" damage to the truck. When the blue ethereal gas cleared, the confused Rocket Angels saw a big box hovering in mid-air, which then fell to the ground as most floating boxes are wont to do. It then exploded in a large browny-violety-yellow-greenish-with-a-dash-of-sultry-orange fireball, blasting the Rocket Angels off to low-Earth orbit.

Commander Mabini, enthused by the bravery of his double-cigarette soldier, suddenly had a fine idea. "Team, I will try to drive around the walker to distract it. While it is distracted, I want you to go in for the kill."

Sweeping hard on the left, Commander Mabini was able, _just_ able to avoid a swing from the Shogun Executioner as three Chrono Bomb Trucks detonated their charges on one of its feet, breaking its gigantic hydraulic motivators in the blast and effectively immobilizing it. He glanced through the sides of the cabin's bubble canopy, watching as one of the other swords were cutting through a Chrono Bomb Truck as easily as a Beam Katana through a wedding cake.

And yes, he has been to one of those weddings as a soldier behind enemy lines; the bride was wearing a very light, almost see-through wedding gown. It was no exhibition of anatomy though; underneath the gown was a Rocket Angel flightsuit, ready for combat as always. The groom was also wearing his standard-issue uniform, but with his headgear respectfully hanging by the hat rack. Based on how he cuts his own wedding cake with his own standard-issue katana, and sheaths it back with nary a piece of icing sticking to the blade, the groom is an elite Imperial Warrior. It was a good event, with Mabini even joining in the festivites and wishing the couple a fruitful marriage, and in Japanese no less.

He wasn't too sure what he said to the couple that day though, knowing no Japanese. Commander Mabini just parroted what the guy before him said to the couple.

The wedding ceremony was cut short by an emergency alarm though, since it was in the Japanese military base itself and the Philippine-Soviet coalition under Commander Ivan was on the assault. Commander Mabini watched as the bride ripped off her wedding gown easily (but sadly, not her flight suit) and flew off through a hole in the roof, just busted by a Drakon round, while the groom hurriedly put his helmet on with the wrong side forward and literally charged blindly into battle, running into the wedding cake.

However, unlike the wedding cake that Commander Mabini ate just before sneaking out of the Japanese base, the Chrono Bomb Truck did not get gobbled nor got chewed up slowly at all, or hacked piece by piece, or blew up in splinters; it just disappeared in mid-slicing, leaving a wafting blue air wrapping a large box floating about for what seemed to be microseconds, before falling back to the ground like an old Looney Tunes cartoon. And like an old cartoon, the box exploded in a massive ill-coloured fireball that reeked of freshly-combusted Super Reactor waste products and the acrid smell of molten ore and nanosteel, melting another leg and severely disabling the rest of the siege walker. _Just as planned_, the commander grinned. The suddenly, the world stopped.

No, wait, the world didn't stop. As he looked outside a lone Rocket Angel was using the Paralysis Whip on _his own_ Chrono Bomb Truck, and the Executioner was still moving. In fact, it was already swinging its sword in his direction. Pressing the big red "Teleport" button to no avail as the electronics were being 'paralyzed', he quickly unbuckled his seatbelt instead and jumped out of the truck, barely missing the Executioner's sword. It sliced the truck cleanly into two, flinging one half of the truck away into the distance while the other half flipped a 270 for a good two seconds. The bomb inside the truck was tossed for a few seconds by the massive sword before detonating right in front of the Executioner's torso, immobilizing the torso ring which, coupled with the immobilized legs, meant that the Executioner was clearly going nowhere. Commander Mabini managed to hide behind one of the legs when all that happened, and when realizing how badly mangled the Executioner's legs are – again – he breathed a sigh of relief. He won't be trodden by the massive walker after all.

But he can't rest yet. A lone Rocket Angel careened towards him, launching rockets in his way. Quickly running around the walker's leg as the rockets slammed all over the Executioner, he looked back and was quickly grabbed by the scruff of his collar as the Rocket Angel swooped down before blasting back to the skies above the Executioner.

The Rocket Angel targeting helmet shuttered itself open, revealing a pretty, and pretty pissed-off, girl. "You...you remember me, guest?"

Commander Mabini just grinned. "Er, hello there Maki. How's life with you and Ichiro? Haven't seen you since your wedding, heh heh..."

"YOU DARED INSULT ME IN FRONT OF MY OWN HUSBAND?!" Maki raged, mouth almost frothing.

Mabini was completely clueless. "Did I? How? When?"

"AT MY WEDDING, YOU TOLD ME THAT I WAS..."

Suddenly, the observation Lamok rammed the Rocket Angel at her back, right at her thrusters, knocking her unconscious. Jerking the controls, the pilot then dove down sharply to catch the falling pair at the open door where the Spectrum Cannon was supposed to be mounted. He managed to catch them, with Commander Mabini using the unconscious Maki's suit as a cushion for his 'impactful' entrance.

Commander Mabini then corrected his back brace and looked at the pilot. "Good catch there. Rough, but good catch."

Quickly disarming Maki and taking off her flight suit, Mabini then gave the order to the pilot to return to base while he tied up the still-unconscious girl to the weapon mount in the Lamok's cabin for interrogation.

**In-game Unit Profile:** Chrono Bomb Truck

**Designation:** Explosives transport, modifiable  
><strong>Manufacturer:<strong> Mindanao FutureTech Facility  
><strong>National Origin:<strong> Philippines  
><strong>Mass-Produced at:<strong> Workshop, Mining Facility

**Accessories:**  
>» Chrono-stabilized heavy armor<br>» Ore Bomb (arm one for a measly thousand credits' worth of ore a pop!)  
>» Attachable "Streetsweepers" surface-mining equipment (purchasable at Golgi's)<br>» Modified chrono-device  
>» Useless rear-view mirrors<p>

**History:**

It was a dark moment for the Allied Chrono Legionnaire legion when some of their elite troops were mind-controlled in a failed strike at Yuri's castle in Romania. While eventually Yuri's Psychic Beacons in the area would be destroyed by a Soviet assault with the intention of reclaiming _their_ _own_ mind-controlled base, also in the area, the mind-controlled Chrono Legionnaires were unaccounted for in the Allied rosters when their base was liberated from Yuri's technology. Eventually, numerous sightings of Chrono Legionnaires, proudly wearing Yuri's colours of vile violet and malevolent mauve, were reported across the globe chrono-zapping the installations of their former allies and comrades. More often than not, these fallen Legionnaires would target Chrono Miners, because these vehicles tend to travel far away from the main base on their mining duties while being less lethal than Soviet War Miners. Up to now the hunt for Yuri's elusive elite Chrono Legionnaires continues, futilely, since the Legionnaires could teleport from Alcatraz Island itself to the Galapagos in an eyeblink, causing much frustration for both Allied and Soviet officials tasked to apprehend them.

However, Allied, Yuri, or whoever's Chrono Legionnaires they were, all the stuff that their physics gun phases out of existence do tend to get rammed through dimensional holes, ending up seamlessly at FutureTech's interdimensional receptacle in Mindanao, smack right at Filipino control. All these materials then are chronoported to a nearby base at Mindanao via an abandoned FutureTech Chronosphere, from which a rebuilt Einsteinian Chronosphere, positioned at just the right coordinates throughout the Philippines, could instantly chronoport salvaged equipment straight into the Constabulary Workshops, Shipyards, Academies, and Aerodromes for retrofitting for Philippine conditions. Thus, when they first discovered the Chrono Miner, the Mindanao Division was overjoyed. Herein lays a truck that, according to the "Chrono Miner Manual" in the glove compartment, could teleport from point A to point B, easing the transfer of _everything_.

Its in-battlefield potential is immense as well. Teleporting tanks can pop into the lightly-defended enemy areas to blow up vital installations, or can simply pop out of enemy fire only to pop in behind them guns blazing. They can be used to teleport a strike team directly to the Emperor's Palace at Tokyo, or more whimsically just teleport a few meters above the Emperor's bed as he sleeps and let gravity do the rest.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. The Filipinos quickly discovered that teleportation beacons were necessary, and these beacons are inextricably linked to equipment that the Constabulary has contracted to Mr. Golgi; thus they can only teleport between GApp buildings. They also found out that the big storage box at the rear of the truck is somewhat _utterly_ useless, since any equipment they store in there are left in place upon teleporting, and any organics in the box would die horrendously (as they horrifically discovered when they attempted to teleport the general's prized fighting cock). Apparently, the "street-sweeping" equipment at the front of the truck is not only an ore-collecting device, it also stabilizes the ore for teleportation, but the Filipinos couldn't figure that out yet; all they know is that the truck teleports itself and anyone in its cabin safely, but couldn't do anything else. It was a solution waiting for a problem.

Nonetheless, it still had a sealed, heavily-armored box, perfect for transporting waste products from the Super Reactors that power the FutureTech device to the containment pit without significantly exposing the driver to the volatile cargo of the truck. Its teleport function is useful as well for reducing the driver's exposure time to the toxic fumes that emanate from the gigantic pit; he does not have to drive all the way up a long, winding, sloped, screwing path back up the pit from the designated dumping area at the base of the pit. Or for some enterprising drivers, all the way down: they would instead careen off the side of the pit and instantly teleport back, leaving the sludge cargo in mid-air to fall into the pit in a gigantic "PLOP!"

From that point, it was an easy, simple transition to a teleporting bomb truck, if a bit alcohol-fueled. But still, a brilliant idea is still a brilliant idea even if it came from a late-night drinking spree: wrap a ubiquitous Kirov bomb in a big crate of highly unstable toxic sludge, and add some ore just before the battle to act as a catalyst-stabilizer-potentiator for the whole bomb. Drive to target, teleport away while leaving the bomb in the process. Wait for a gigantic, ground- contaminating 'KABOOM!' of ore-fueled psychedelic colours that releases enough gas to clog up the engines of any aircraft flying nearby. Since that point on the Filipinos had a vehicle they could abuse, knowing that it can surely take a beating and still return to base in (barely) one piece, ready for repairs and reloading with another bomb, assuming the commander has enough ore to arm the next bomb of course.

**Game unit:**

Originally a humble truck, the Filipinos have transformed it into a nigh-indestructible vehicle, sporting heavy armor and a tendency to teleport back at base if critically damaged (or under the direct orders of the field commander), only vulnerable if frozen (Allied Cryo technology), paralyzed (Japanese Rocket Angels), stasis-rayed (Soviet Terror Drones), weapon-jammed (Allied Hydrofoils), driver-sniped (Soviet Natascha), or otherwise disabled. Indeed, this is the only vehicle that has been theorized to be able to withstand most sure-kill attacks such as Yuriko's psionic destruction, Tanya's C4, or even direct superweapon attacks including the mighty Vacuum Imploder and the dreaded Magnetic Satellites, as long as there are still allied GApp structures in the battlefield, where the truck can be teleported to for repairs and rearming with the Bomb, for a rather steep cost in credits.

However, due to the intricacies of the truck, the vehicle _can_ teleport between GApps, but would leave the bomb automatically armed whether those within the field commander likes it or not, so careless teleporting is not only going to cost dearly in credits's worth of wasted bombs; it would also cause great devastation around the target area regardless of the presence of friends or foes. Not even airborne units are safe; the bomb's blast radius is enough to knock out aircraft out of the sky.

**Notes From the Field:**

_Clearance Message at a Premium_ – It is a rather well-armored – if slow – truck that carries the Bomb, which is a rather expensive bomb of great damage potential, blast radius, and environmental fallout. The Bomb contaminates ground, blasts anything on ground or in the air, and creates a funky cloud of death in doing so. It sends a clear message to the enemy that you hate them indeed.

_Don't Shoot the Messenger (That Doesn't Shoot Back)_ – It teleports from GApp to GApp **only**, and arms the Bomb there for a price. If not disabled, the truck automatically teleports to the nearest GApp upon reaching critical damage, where it can be repaired, rearmed with the Bomb, and be even modified back to its original purpose as a surface miner. However, other kits, including any weapons, can't be mounted on the truck since they tend to compromise the chronospatial integrity of the vehicle, which is critical for a vehicle designed to traverse time and space itself.

_The Fine Print_ – Due to the peculiarities of the truck and the relative complicatedness of the technology, the truck can't teleport with the Bomb, instead leaving it where they left it to automatically explode, which can be anywhere such as in the midst of enemies (good), in the middle of nowhere (meh), or in your own base (bad). In fact, the only place it is sure not to drop the Bomb is in the water, simply because it seems dangerous to drill flotation kits into a teleporting vehicle.

_From Postman Pat to Mercury_ – Unlike most Bomb Trucks, the driver **survives** his mission to drive a bomb into an enemy formation yet again, and learns how to coax more power out of his engine, while improving the general characteristics of the vehicle including the strength of the Bomb, as well as self-repairs in the field in the heat of battle itself as the driver better understands his truck and its quirks.


	63. Sun on the Run

"Attack!"

Hundreds of Constables opened fire on the immobilized Shogun Executioner, hoping to finally destroy this device that has caused them much grief. The Executioner, on the other hand, just lay there with its gigantic swords held up high in the air, seemingly oblivious to the continuous stream of small-arms fire all over its body. As per the Soviet Conscript Handbook, the Constables assumed Formation O, surrounding their target in a synchronized maneuver under fire while returning suppression fire at the same time, until the infantry could finally form a perfect circle around their target to bring down maximum damage all over the target. In air, this formation seems to encircle the target, creating a thin O around it, thus the name. Of course, since this is the Soviet Conscript Handbook, such formations are merely a _suggestion_ for the Conscripts, and thus like most other of its sound tactical concepts are merely used as battle cries by the Conscripts who barely understand what they meant, much less actually even attempt it in combat.

The Constables though took this Handbook more seriously, seeing that the alternative would be Turiano Carpio's Military Philosophy for the Common Constable, a surprisingly thin pamphlet-like booklet that could be easily comprehended – for two seconds, until the everyday human mind naturally loops down into itself and squeezes that brief moment of philosophical lucidity out of the brain to protect its various vital segments from overclocking themselves to hemorrhage. Thus the Constables studied the Conscript Handbook eagerly, and it shows: they executed the formation flawlessly. Commander Oleg would've been proud.

"Cut it down!"

Commander Bara was watching the scene from the relative safety of her newly-refurbished base, hand clutched to a communicator linked to the Executioner. Through the screen, she watched as the Executioner responded to her voice command, swinging its three swords straight into the Constables, their interlocking arcs ensuring that any Constable in the 360 degrees of their formation gets eviscerated and then cauterized back again, but with their visceral organs outside their abdominal cavities.

The officers watched the massacre before their very eyes. "Damn! What a waste! Where's our artillery? Where's our superweapons?"

The IPRU lawyer glances from his tablet, pausing his imported _Kill the Gaijin!_ videogame. "We don't know how to make a phone call to the inside of that machine, thus no Lawful Annihilator against it."

"And our airforce?"

The lieutenant snappily replies. "Badly mauled in the previous strike on the Executioner; the Auroras can't be deployed either because they are busy patrolling the parts of the Philippines under our control."

"Artillery?"

The composite battlefield display on the floor of the room snaps up a view of the pertinent map, complete with unit positions and range radii. "The target is just outside the range of the Paint Sub; the captain says that if they try to engage the Executioner from the shore they seriously risk hitting the nearby town of..."

"Don't we have land-based artillery?"

"Sir, it seems that we've ran out of other artillery."

The officer finally sat down in frustration. "Nuts! Where is Turiano Carpio when you need him? Contact him now."

Turiano Carpio, of course, is a good thousand or so kilometers away from the Shogun Executioner, combatting the horde of Yuriko Duplicates. Of course, despite his very important role of single-handedly holding off an entire army of Yurikoes (with his own army... of himselves, nonetheless), the higher-ups tend to treat him as an ultimate weapon – and a weapon of last resort, to be deployed only in critical situations due to his importance both in-battlefield and out of it. It's as if someone rolled together Natasha, Dr. Zelinsky, and the Soviet Commander in one: brilliant soldier, brilliant armaments developer, and a possible threat to the higher officers and their lofty positions in the Constabulary, all at the same time. Deploying him stupidly risks losing him and his philosophical arsenal, while deploying him smartly risks making the career soldiers themselves redundant. Not deploying him in the first place and the country itself is doubtlessly doomed.

Finally the phone was picked up. It was not the kind of voice that corrects reality itself, and based on how the phone doesn't slightly waver in and out of existence the way Turiano Carpio normally does to them, it must be his secretary. "Hell-"

The commander quickly cuts her off, somewhat relieved that he did not have to experience untimely epistaxis – and would not risk talking to her for long either, just in case her boss returns. "How's it there?"

"Sir, Mr. Carpio is...excited, in a very unexciting manner."

"Okay...how's the Yuriko Crisis?"

"It was not a problem sir. Turiano Carpio is moving into the ruined Japanese base as we speak; he figured out that the only possible source for the Duplicates is there, and will move in to apprehend Yuriko so the whole Yuriko Duplicate threat shuts down for good. The Duplicates themselves are a minimal threat as we speak."

"He gets excited?"

"Mr. Carpio was testing subliminal messaging as a way to easier teach his lessons; he implanted excerpts of his Basic Military Philosophy textbook in Kylie Minogue songs for greater... 'palatability' for the brain. He believes that all the Duplicates that would hear the songs would channel the subliminal message straight into Yuriko's brain, amplifying its effects on her, reducing the testing time needed for the tests."

"So, the philosopher actually uses scientific methods to verify his ...wait, did you just say that he wants to get his philosophy audiobooks into the Billboard Hot Dance Hits, to make his teaching easier? And that he took exclusive control over the whole operation, to test his Philo-Kylie-sophy teaching material?

"Er, that's one way of looking at it sir, though personally I don't think Turiano Carpio is really in a mood for dance hits; he just uses it as a capsule to subliminally introduce his lessons. Also, he notified the Constabulary's accountants that all royalties we owe to Ms. Minogue, including whatever lawsuits, would be deducted from the pay of the artillerists."

The Constabulary's head of Artillery suddenly stands up indignantly. "WHAT? WHY US?"

The secretary holds up a piece of paper, a prepared answer to a question Turiano Carpio anticipated from the ranking artillery officer. "Apparently, the lack of suitable land-based artillery in the first place does not justify artillerists being paid as much as the other arms of the military that actually _do_ something."

Meanwhile, all the way at the ruins of the Japanese base, Dr. Saiko is watching his dear Yuriko clone, afflicted with some sort of damage to her cerebrum manifesting as abnormalities to her thought processes. She has difficulty focusing, which means her psionic powers needed in forming Duplicates are severely limited. Her thoughts seem incoherent, and while her motor functions are still fine, her actions are somewhat exaggerated to him, and in some sort of rhythm, as if each and every movement of her body is choreographed in a giant dance sequence. But what bothers him the most is the damage to her language center, because while Dr. Saiko doesn't mind his Yuriko dancing around, and boy does she know how to move her body well, he can't stand any form of singing while at work. And sing is something Yuriko can't help but do; even in trying to converse properly with the doctor she can't speak properly, instead singing what she meant to say as if in some sort of a musical. Worse, Yuriko can't help but sing only the songs that got stuck in her head, thereby robbing her of almost the entirety of her vocabulary except for some cliché love song lyrics.

For Yuriko, she is truly terrified and greatly confused. All these songs keep looping in and out of her head, and when she sings them just to get them out of her chest, some other song just comes in and continues her musical torment.

"...can't get you out of my head..."

At her moments of lucidity she still can't help but think of just dancing with Dr. Saiko, and when she tries to explain what is happening to her all her words are merely lyrics of the songs in her head, spliced and recombined to have some similarity to what she really meant to say. Of course, dance song lyrics can in no way match the Japanese language in expressing what she wants to say, so to Dr. Saiko she makes little to no sense. At least her actions are sensible though, if a bit too rhythmic; that is what convinced Dr. Saiko in the first place that Yuriko still is sane, if a bit limited in her choice of words.

They both had something much more important to fear, however, as the screens show: the march of the Carpios, moving closer and closer to the base. Any form of resistance Yuriko tries to create in the form of her Duplicates all collapse as quickly as Yuriko can form them, as the tight mass of war philosophers and their reality-correcting audiobooks simply disintegrate any form of matter manipulation Yuriko feebly tries. What would the mad philosopher do? The couple has heard the deeds of just one Turiano Carpio: convincing an entire Navy Group to turn traitor, even the very Shoguns themselves. They saw all the Japanese infantry whose minds were mangled merely by hearing his seemingly innocuous audiobooks, those that got too near suffered massive brain hemorrhage; any survivors of the encounter had bouts of lunacy and epilepsy as well. They saw massive dents and cracks in the Empire's best nanosteel alloys as he and his loudspeaker passed by without even looking at the enemy tanks and structures, while the pilots themselves who merely flew above him were never fit enough to fly again after the mission; their newly-crafted aircraft frames having their life expectancy reduced to mere days. Never had they been afraid of what they don't understand, until now. And they are afraid, very afraid. So afraid that they did not notice a chicken strut suavely into the perimeter of their base.

A chicken, a suave, smart-looking chicken.

So what is a chicken doing there? No sane chicken is expected to go to the ruined Japanese base, what with all the burnt flesh and nanosteel and such. There are no worms to be plucked out from the ground, since molten slagged nanosteel has pretty much covered the entirety of the rich loam, suffocating and melting any underground invertebrates. There is no rice to peck grains from either, since they all were burnt in the massive firestorm that dried up the small ponds in the area as well. And any chicken coop the Japanese may have garrisoned are pretty much smashed up as well in the firefight that preceded the firestorm. Silly chicken, what are you doing there?

Then the chicken flew on top of the ruined VIP bunker, spread its wings open, and opened its mouth, as if some sort of a hipster weather vane. The underside of the wing revealed some complicated radar-dish antenna, and the chicken began to speak English in a BBC accent – but with a German twang – to a receiver in its ear.

"Center-one Alpha, this is Agent Koch in the field. I am now in the southern Japanese base here at Luzon Island. Something is very wrong here."

From the other end, a bland voice replied, possibly Belgian. "Agent Koch, this is Center-one Alpha. Report."

"Center-one Alpha, the Japanese base seems to have burnt down. There seems to be a firefight that occurred here, but I can't see any sign of Allied ordnance.

"No Allied equipment? Then it isn't FutureTech's doing. Soviet?"

"Nyet. It seems all Empire here, Empire wreckage, Empire ordnance, all Empire. Not even a sign of local resistance."

"Not our concern agent. We are looking for signs of suspicious FutureTech activity, not signs of Japanese firefighting incompetence. Now clear the area while we make sure that everything Japanese in the area stays dead."

A blue half-sphere...thing temporarily envelops the VIP bunker, leaving a large cross-shaped box in its wake. "Agent Koch, you have twenty seconds to clear the area."

Agent Koch does not need to be said at twice. He has already taken off his cramped chicken disguise and is now sprinting away from the Supreme Time Bomb Center-one Alpha has teleported on the floor of the VIP bunker, which due to its weight has now crashed through the weakened floor of the derelict bunker. Yuriko and Dr. Saiko heard a loud crash from above their quarters when the bomb smashed through the ceiling, landing hard on the floor near Dr. Saiko.

The gigantic timer on the bomb indicated "00:20", and when the couple blinked again to make sure some bomb has just landed beside them, the timer now indicated "00:19". The looked at the monitors monitoring the perimeter of the base, and saw the Allied spy run away as fast as he can. They looked again at the bomb, and Dr. Saiko went pale, with a shriek stuck in his throat. Yuriko, however, was too distracted to panic, or even think straight; she's just singing.

"...We're on a time bomb, we might not last long..."

At least she had the mental capacity to realize what is happening around her.

The Carpioes, on the other hand are closing in on the underground VIP bunker within the remains of the Empire base, silently surveying the wreckage wrought by the Paint Sub on the unsuspecting Japanese. Just by looking at the paint-charred wreckage, he could analyze the sequence of events as they unfolded, as they unfolded the Japanese base. They all then slowed down to further examine the base and its very interesting contents, to make recommendations to their superiors about the surprisingly extreme effectiveness of the Paint Sub against clustered troops, making a note to increase the literal 'splash' radius of the shell; air-burst from a higher altitude perhaps. He also pondered a bit about adopting the paint-based ammunition for the ground-based artillery version, and quickly remembered the Black Hole shells the Allies sold to the Philippines back then. The Black Hole shells were highly advanced shells which were very promising in theory, but production was discontinued when it was discovered that the shells tended to draw in all matter of ordnance including those fired from friendlies, in effect sucking in all the shells towards a hapless target. The programming needed to distinguish friendly from enemy fire, as included in the amphibious naval version, could not fit in individual shells; otherwise the Allies could have all eight bombs from the Century bomber guided individually. This shell also had the nasty side-effect of shocking any infantry within its 'blast' radius in a small blast of electricity, which would have been disastrous to the Allies' propaganda efforts in painting Tesla technology as horrifyingly inhumane weapons (while hiding the fact that their Spectrum weapons hurt too, very very much).

Oddly enough though, despite the Assault Destroyer being a seaborne vessel able to maintain the Black Hole field, the Paint Sub could not safely carry those Black Hole shells. The Black Hole field of the Assault Destroyer does not give off large outbursts of electricity when activated, the field being grounded by the ship itself to function as an auxiliary power source to power up the non-essential electricity load within the ship. The Black Hole shell, however, does not have a ground but the ground itself, and the ground is not exactly sufficient either as ground, thus the highly visible discharge of balled lightning that is instantly fatal against infantry, and quite damaging to other kinds of targets. This exact electric lethality however is also the main reason the Naval Arm of the Philippine Constabulary would never dare issue Black Hole shells to their ships though: it's too easy to accidentally shock the crew as they ready their long, hard, dripping, wet device for discharge...

Then they look up. A Supreme Time Bomb is falling at them, psychically flung into their general direction by a singing Yuriko in one of her occasional bouts of panic-driven lucidity.


	64. Chasing Loopholes

Yuriko's brief, panic-driven moment of lucidity stopped too soon for Dr. Saiko. True, she was able to fling the gigantic Time Bomb into the incoming retaliatory horde of Carpioes in that brief moment of lucidity, but now she had the appropriate song stuck in her head, and she can't help but sing and dance.

"It's not the end of the world  
>It's just the start of me and you, yeah<br>So let's just take the moment..."

The Carpioes watched the time bomb crash-land on some of their own numbers. No one has seen a Turiano Carpio die though, nor has anyone seen a corpse. When Turiano Carpio was first officially documented to die, he died in action against the Emperor's Blessing back then, and the multiple Wave-Force cannons firing at him meant that any efforts in observing his death would be obscured in a large blue beam, and any effort in recovering his corpse, futile due to the sheer firepower pumped into it. Even when he returned, from death apparently, he did not quite feel pain either; his constant thinking and philosophizing keeping his cortex stimulated, thus keeping his substancia gelatinosa active in GABA secretion enough to block pain as the impulses travel to the laminae I to VI. OF course, presumably, the particle bombardment of the Wave-Force beam may have already obliterated his neurons in the first place, but then it seems no one really is sure. No one is really sure either who really knows what, thus rendering the who-knows-what statements as textbook examples of the Heisenberg-Zelinsky Uncertainty Principle.

What is certain though is that the time bomb still exploded all over the Carpioes, and since it being a Supreme Time Bomb after all, it exploded in quite a large exothermic reaction, kicking up a large cloud of smoke, dust, and flash that certainly obscured the apparent deaths of all the Turiano Carpioes within blast range. When the cloud cleared afterwards, there was only one Turiano Carpio, still somehow standing in the midst of time bomb bits with his clothes and person in immaculate condition, still looking dignified amidst the rubble and wreckage. No one seems to know where all the others Carpioes are, nor did anyone notice if there were any corpses left. Most certainly not Dr. Saiko, who was looking from the aboveground camera as the form of Turiano Carpio emerges, unharmed, from the dust cloud. Certainly not Yuriko either, who was too busy singing to Dr. Saiko annoyingly while watching the screen as well.

"...Boy let's move..."

Dr. Saiko quickly glanced at her. "For once you made sense Yuriko. You may just have some hope yet. Quick, to the garage!"

Yuriko scowled. Dr. Saiko didn't care. He quickly grabbed her, cupping a hand over her mouth to shut her up as they both ran towards the underground garage. To their horror, it was a mess; the underground bunker still took some damage from the Paint Sub bombardment when some oil leaked into some of the ventilation shafts.

"Let's find a vehicle, there's sure to be one here!" Dr. Saiko then let go of Yuriko and her big noisy mouth while they both tried to find a suitable vehicle out, but there seemed none. The command Sudden Transport has been so badly damaged that its rear thrusters are strewn on the ground, while the Tengus were badly charred together with the VX-craft. Admiral 898's personal King Oni had its right foot molten to the floor as well while the Tsunami Tanks had their prows molten all over their treads; overall the garage and all the vehicles in itwere badly, severely trashed. This did not deter Dr. Saiko though; there's no way he's going to let himself get caught by gaijin, especially when that gaijin is the one that twists the minds of loyal Japanese into stupid gaijin-minded fools.

Yuriko though just sat down gazing at Saiko pointlessly, tired, listless, but still singing; albeit in a tune to match her hopeless situation. "What on earth am I meant to do, in this crowded place there is only you..."

"Yuriko! Over here!" Yuriko sprang back to liveliness towards Dr. Saiko, who found an Imperial Ore Collector in the repair bay, its concealed armament disassembled on a platform beside it with the gun barrel dented. "Looks like someone hit a rock while collecting, and left it here for repairs." Dr. Saiko opened the door for Yuriko and let her in, like a true gentleman. Then they noticed that the Ore Collector had only one seat, so Yuriko got back out, Saiko jumped in to the seat and started the engines as Yuriko crawled in and sat on his lap while he managed the pedals with some difficulty as he shifted Yuriko's weight on his thighs.

"Stupid one-seat trucks..."

Yuriko smiled knowingly. "Do the locomotion with meee..."

Dr. Saiko looked at Yuriko with that increasingly-common strained look, and sighed. Then he smiled. They both smiled together, and somehow managed a quick smack on the lips despite the difficult position while he then slammed on the gas and the Collector careened, somewhat, through the garage entrance and out into the field faster than any normal Imperial Collector can, now that the heavy gun-turret is gone.

Turiano Carpio arrived just in time to the bunker to watch the Collector drive past by with Dr. Saiko on the wheel and Yuriko blocking most of his view of the windscreen, with a stump where the supposedly-concealed gun is supposed to be. He gave chase, but realized that his own highly-dignified method of locomotion was not made to compete with heavily-lightened ore trucks in a drag race such as this. He could easily stop the ore truck in its tracks quite easily, but all he had at his disposal was his trusty microphone and a whole lot of knowledge of philosophy. And while he could easily prove the unfeasibility that any vehicle driven straight from unfinished repairs could go far, the proof is just not right. It's non-logical, it's irrational, it's incorrect; by all means that ore truck _can_ keep moving enough to escape from Turiano Carpio, and he never refutes reality with a proof which he himself knows is wrong to begin with. And even if that Ore Collector carries two of the most notorious enemies his beloved country had ever faced, Turiano Carpio won't stop them with his philosophy if it involved cheating on his specialty with a substandard proof.

Well, he could simply run towards the truck and throw his megaphone at it to stun the truck's occupants.

Turiano Carpio weighed his options though: break his dignified posture as _the_ professor of military philosophy by running to catch them, or let them escape to wreak havoc again.

Nope, the War Philosopher won't break his dignified posture. **Ever.**

Even if it meant the possible death of millions of Filipinos? No, there is insufficient proof that they will do so. Even if it meant the destruction of entire cities? Again, no, for the same reason. Even if letting them off risks losing all that the Philippine Constabulary has fought for in this War of the Three Powers as the remaining Japanese war machine gets bolstered by the unique skills of the couple, possibly to finally succeed in occupying the country? Still no, the reasoning is not so valid given the conditions. Even if the two are high in the Philippine Constabulary's Most Wanted list? Still no; but the topic of duty versus ideals can be discussed later. Even if letting them go means that justice for the harmed would be delayed? Absolutely not; if those lawmakers that would be involved in the tribunal are in any way similar to those inept lawyers at the Intellectual Property Rights Office who are in charge of making the philosophical derivations necessary to operate the Lawful Annihilator ultimate weapon, then the entire case will have the' just compensation' be awarded entirely only to the lawyers involved, making the case injudicious. Even if it meant that Turiano Carpio's testing of his War Philosophy subliminal messaging education system on Yuriko via all her Duplicates would be invalidated due to the time frame modifications?

Let us think about that first...

Well, if the test is a success, it would mean that his students just _might_ have an inkling of what he's discussing whenever he teaches the War Philosophy subjects in the Academy, then **yes!** Better do something drastic then, if it means less stupefied, hemorrhaging students in class and more lively discussions at long, long last. And with that thought, Turiano Carpio actually ran, and did he run, and fast, towards the truck. With a graceful swing of the arm he launches his megaphone to the truck as reality idealizes Carpio's throw, making the megaphone land perfectly on the truck just right for Dr. Saiko to hear the tape.

Dr. Saiko could hear something faint in the background; it sounded like someone threw a singing, pitch-perfect Kylie on the bed of his truck. He then turned towards Yuriko, who is also singing the exact same song in sync rather well.

"Did you just hear that second voice Yuriko?"

It was then that the subliminal lessons on the Philosophy of War effected on his mind and a cacophony of analysis surged, washing out his sensory system as the doctor's brain tried to wrap itself around the profoundness of Carpio's philosophy, engulfing his conscious and subconscious, overwhelming all id, ego, and superego, overclocking his mind to state of near-BSOD. And then, his higher faculties went full stop as he lay immobile inside the Collector, with Yuriko slumped over the steering wheel unconscious as well. The Collector slows down as Dr. Saiko's foot relaxes in a philosophy-induced paralysis, allowing Turiano Carpio to break his run and revert to his more dignified, more philosophical means of mobility to catch up with the escaping mad doctor, and more importantly, Yuriko. All that had to be done was to simply carry them to Manila for interrogation in the POW camp in Fort Bonifacio.

_Fort Bonifacio POW Camp, unspecified location near Manila_

"You can't get anything from me!" Maki hissed as she is being led, cuffed, towards her cell. "Whatever torture you do, whatever accommodations you house me in, I will not break!"

Her warden, a fat, normally jovial woman nicknamed Carmen the Warden, just sighed. "Rest assured that this internment facility follows all international guidelines for proper storage of prisoners of war."

"YEAH? Then why can't I hear any other person in here?"

"When troops of your country lose a battle, they usually commit seppuku, and as far as we can tell, Japanese troops don't usually survive it. For those who do manage to be apprehended before dying, the manage to kill themselves creatively in the cells so often it is ridiculous.

"HAH! I knew my fellow countrymen and women would rather die than be captured by you gaijin!"

"Yes, and it really puzzles us indeed. Especially considering that the Fort Bonifacio Internment Facility had been winning _POW Camp Magazine International's_ the 'Best Internment Facility Award' for three consecutive years, even in the midst of fighting against you, you really should pick this POW camp to stay in."

"Hmph, how good is it? Golden prison bars hmm?"

"Very funny, of course it is spartan at best, but at least it's not like Allies' facilities which had to rely on POWs to mine coal to sustain the energy demands of the VIP Cryoprison, or the Soviets and their 'Bear vs. POW wrestling matches. And don't get me started with your camps..."

Finally, they reached the cell. It was perched on a high wall, with light being funneled through by an abnormally large window, about the size of a bus windshield, but with rusty rebar for iron bars. The bedroom was a very spartan bedroom indeed, with a woven mat simply stuck to the concrete floor making up the bed, and that's it, nothing else; but at least there was a bathroom per cell.

"Hey there prisoner, here's your cell. Sorry it looks terribly ugly; the previous resident here stole the shower head, pocketed the original toilet and sink, and purloined the entire bed when he walked out of this cell on a bail."

Maki looked at the cell. It certainly is a POW camp, but it's nothing like the 'POW camps' the Japanese operated; imagine that, personalized toilets! Not even her Imperial barracks has a personal toilet; instead the soldiers would use communal toilets, which sucked whenever some sloppy Rocket Angel flushed her napkins. She could remember letting go of an intense verbal tirade against a fellow Rocket Angel who did just that, it occurred before that damned Chrono Bomb Truck rush against the Executioner. She could remember berating the Rocket Angel for her slovenly behaviour; now that Rocket Angel lies dead somewhere in low-earth geosynchronous orbit, and Maki is forced to use a chamberpot to relieve herself, rather disgustingly.

Maki just sighed, a sigh of relief, desperation, regret, and reflectiveness. She just misses Ichiro too...


	65. Light in the Depths

The Philippine Constabulary's High Command was in a flurry of activity; the television-studded floor filled with various reports, data, and intelligence throughout the Philippines. Officer Mabini watched the display panels; all of them outdated colored CRT television sets from Japan back when they had serious overproduction issues. The commander just smiled at the irony of it, even though it's not really ironic.

Originally, when the Japanese sold the TVs at really cheap prices, almost all the then-Third World countries were keen to pick them up, buoying the Japanese economy. In just a year, however, the Americans have developed the flat-screen TV, and then the LCD TV, and then the LED TV, in quick succession, quickly cornering the market for upscale television sets and depriving the Japanese zaibatsus of upper-class foreign currency. At the same time, the Soviets sold off their surplus military hardware at low prices, including twelve warehouses' worth of military display sets. To adopt their gear for civilian use, the technicians simply adjusted their old TV-radios to not pick up military frequencies, done in mere minutes via delicate percussive fine-tuning with a Tesla-charged hammer to the antenna electronics, carefully trying to not damage the crude black-and-white-display screens. The result was a slew of highly-rugged ersatz TVs with military-grade antennas which can easily pick up transmissions across entire continents, and even from space, allowing the poorer proletariat-types around the world to watch _I Love Lucy_ from broadcasts made half-a-century ago that traveled off into space and bounced back. Everyone from the farthest ends of the woods/farm/sea/islands bought one because of the sheer range of transmissions they can get, and especially the elderly people loved it; they can finally watch their old, 'proper' shows in all its black-and-white glory instead of all that 'Reality TV' crap. The SovieTV was such a surprise hit that the Western stock market felt a shudder for years, and even further aggravated the already-dwindling sales of Japanese TV sets. Ironically, the Soviets replaced their old TV-radios with new ones adopted from the Japanese colored-CRT designs, allowing the common Soviet military-man to finally watch TV in colour, ushering in a new age of Soviet advances in the field of Electronic Arts.

But of course Officer Mabini doesn't care about any of these for the moment, especially for the field of Electronic Arts. Leave the arts for later when the war is over, and time now to focus on the matter at hand. He then tapped at a TV screen with his finger.

"So how is the second Chronosphere doing?"

One of the scientists looked at the officer. "Good, really good. Salvaging an entire Chronosphere from the Mindanao facility and chrono-ing it here in pieces; we just made it work almost as good, if not better, than the one the Allies use. For one, our Chronosphere has a retractable roof; the Allies' one don't."

The multitude of television screens displayed everything about the Chronosphere; multiple tests show that it is in every way as functional as the Chronosphere the Allies are using, while being blissfully oblivious to the fact that the Chronosphere the Filipinos reconstructed is in fact used by the Allies – albeit of another timeline.

_Meanwhile, in the (recently-repaired) Battlebase Chrysanthemum_

"Commodore Dohson, we have analyzed the power fluctuations your sensors have detected. They are of a Chronosphere which we have been triangulating for months now using long-range scanners deployed in Guam, Singapura, and the Home Islands. However, your proximity allowed us to pinpoint the exact location of the Chronosphere in question: it's in Pasay, in the province of Rizal a few kilometers south of Manila. The Emperor wants you to destroy it, lest the Allies use it to teleport gaijin straight to Tokyo."

Commodore Dohson acknowledges the command, and then grabs the mic. "All ships return to the Battlebase. Others on-board prepare to sail. We will be departing immediately-"

His second mate quickly interrupts him. "Sir, but there are a lot of reports of spy submersibles intercepting our comms, pinging us; they'd shadow our movements and track us. The Filipinos would know we would be coming to their Chronosphere, and they might lay out a trap. Remember the previous battle for Manila where we lost two fleets?"

Commodore Dohson wrinkles his brow, and then smiles. "Very well, if they Filipinos like listening to us so badly, we will give them such a loud ping they would never hear it."

He then switches the microphone and gives the order. "Divert all ship power to the transducer. Recalibrate beyond maximum allowable limits until the transducer can't handle the power, then switch to active SONAR and scan that shoal over there. Retract all passives." The crew manning the SONAR array wondered what the commodore was up to, and so did the Second Mate. Nonetheless they did what was ordered and redirected massive amounts of electricity from the entire ship, temporarily shutting down even the emergency lights, to the transducer. Focusing the ping with the Battlebase's beamformer, they released a single PING that rumbled ominously as it closed in on the shoal.

The Filipino radiomen in the captured Yari submersibles were still busy intercepting coded messages, sending all of them back to base for decryption. They had no idea that the _Chrysanthemum_ released a large sonic fart in their general direction, until they saw coral reefs get snapped loose. Then the submerged rock formations, where they were hiding, collapsed on top of them, crushing the submersibles. Some of the Filipino Yaris were disabled by the initial wave of the PING, to be simply swept away and forcibly smashed to the nearest rock. Any crew that survived with their SONAR headphones still on had the misfortune of listening to a PING powerful enough to snap hydrophones like twigs; the sound they heard was loud enough to crack their skulls and give massive trauma to their brains. Any other submersibles that were able to avoid the risky littoral terrain still had to deal with the glamorous show of light – sonoluminescence, a spectacle indicative of massive cavitation. And for hulls that have already been greatly weakened by the initial pressure wave of the PING, the cavitation was way more than enough to finish them off; by itself cavitation can already crack the large transparent cockpit canopy; now with the extra punch of the pulse itself cavitation crunches pressure hulls easily.

The Japanese crew aboard the _Chrysanthemum_ watched as a bright white light shimmered through the shallow waters, with a boom. "Sonoluminescence . In that strength, cavitation would be enough to melt metal – or break submarines." And surely enough, a few minutes later plastic parts emerged from the water surface. Yari submersible parts.

The Second Mate watched as bodies started floating out of the sea; face down, amidst leaking oil and other flotsam and jetsam. The heat generated by the pressure wave even ignited some of the oil. "Wow, sir, that's an ingenious use of the oversized SONAR apparatus on this Battlebase. By the way, how did you know that the Filipinos would be there?"

"Training and experience, in Yaris." The commodore then motioned towards his chambers, before he was stopped by another question by the Second Mate. "Sir, what about the First Mate?"

"She'll be fine; I trust in her."


	66. Chronosphere Crisis

_**Battlebase **_**Chrysanthemum**_** bridge**_

"Command, we're looking at the area near the gaijin's Chronosphere. It's very heavily fortified, with almost no slipways for our MCV or Nanocores. The only way we can get to the target is either via an amphibious assault on the toughest fortifications on this country for the few available slipways, or a VX assault against one of the most flexible armies we've ever faced, or a proper land-based campaign with support from the Shogun Executioner we left back under Commander Bara. I'd suggest we go on with the initial plan to build a full army up north and march to Manila, along with a concerted amphibious attack."

The military planners in Japan were rather busy, but still had to respond. This is, after all, a mission most important. "Commander Dohson, the impending risk of that Chronosphere being used by the Allies to attack the Home Islands is far too great to let it stay standing for far too long."

"But sir, out of all the Chronospheres in the world we can destroy, why does it have to be this specific Chronosphere? Are we even sure if the files we got from this 'Dr. Einstein' are correct, and not a ploy?"

"Commander, rest assured we ran his theory through our Mainframes and have independently confirmed the theory. Also, we ran the said equations, and by triangulation, the Philippines is indeed the optimum place to build the Chronosphere, within a 10% margin of error of course. It also helps to verify Dr. Einstein's theory that the Shinobi network found these files are in the Philippines, presumably related to the deployment of the Chronosphere there."

"I am sorry sir, but I still believe that this is deliberate disinformation. The Shinobis directly involved in picking up these files have said that it's literally littered on the beach, and I don't think FutureTech would be that sloppy to lose such a secret file if they had to use an alias for the name of the scientist. I mean, really, Albert Einstein? Alive for that long after suddenly disappearing from the 1920's? Next thing we'd know Amelia Earhart is actually a top Apollo pilot."

"Nonetheless, you have to fulfil your duty. For a rough timetable, we'd give you about a week to disable the Chronosphere. We're not forcing you to adhere to that though; we know your background and your scores in the simulations. You're better in engineering defence strategies than in planning assaults, that's why you're put in command of the defence of the Home Islands. It just so happens that destroying the Chronosphere is a key point in the defence, and since it is your task you have to do it. May the Emperor bless you. Out."

Commodore Dohson, newly-promoted to Commander, looked at the map. Despite his flagship being an invulnerable megafactory, he knows he's up for a difficult fight. The bulk of the Philippine Constabulary has come to Manila, veterans of previous failed Imperial incursions into the islands. The few slipways, as he said, are heavily defended; he can pound on those positions with his newly-repaired tri-cannons, but how long would it take before those areas can be safe enough to ramp in an MCV? Had the Chronosphere been built a few hundred meters closer it could have been within range of his tri-cannons, thus this issue would have been dealt with, and he can head on back home. His navy is incapable of striking at the Chronosphere, while his infantry or top-tier units can only be properly deployed once the slipways are secure. His mecha forces, on the other hand, can easily fly across the jagged rocks holding up the reclamation areas, but unlike the Allied or Soviet doctrines of combined-arms complementing each of their components' weaknesses, the Constabulary had a vague strategy, and whatever that strategy is called, the Empire's units certainly aren't specifically designed to counter it, and that is important in that it makes mecha raids on the Chronosphere practically impossible. And most annoyingly, he left the Shogun Executioner back with Commander Bara.

"Damn, all the beaches have been covered with reclamation site rocks." He looked at the map more closely. "Evidently, slipways at the harbour would be priority one. Their defences in the area can be softened up by the fleet and the _Chrysanthemum_'s cannons."

He traced the path of the Pasig river with his finger, to an inland position. "Windmill farm here. Once disabled, the majority of whatever defences they have would lack power. That should make the assault easier. That would be priority two."

He then outlined past a series of factories. Noticing that there are even more enemies here, he quickly switched to another target: the national communication beacons. "Without those beacons, there would be no enemy organization, no reinforcements from outside the city. Priority three. That should suffice."

He then leafed through his copy of the theories of 'Dr. Einstein' concerning optimum Chronosphere deployment. There's a reason why he's known in _engineering_ defence strategies, after all.

**War Room, undisclosed location in the Philippines**

"General Puno, someone's on the line. It seems to be Mr. Gallo, the former Soviet commander-turned-arms dealer."

The general shook off the sleep from his eyes. He has fallen asleep while trying to plan a desperate defence for his beloved country's capital city. "Patch him in."

Some of the screens on the floor of the War Room changed a bit to the teak-and-brass background where Savieroski Galloski basked in opulence. However, this time, the Italian Soviet arms dealer was looking a little less smug than normal. "Listen, general, we have something important to discuss."

"Go away Gallo, we don't need more of your shady deals. The Aurora Transports are undergoing very extensive repairs, and we discovered that those hulls had such shoddy workmanship…"

"Yes, yes, we know that General Puno. Past is past, and if you don't like them I give a refund for them…assuming the Japanese don't occupy you first of course, then that invalidates my refund policy in more ways than one. But that is not why I am here for, because believe it or not, I'm here to give you some intel on the enemy you're up against. After all, we care for our customers, right? So first, you should know that…."

General Puno was disturbed by a subordinate. "Coffee, sir?" The general just waved off the coffee. "No thanks, I just had one a few minutes ago."

"Are you sure, general? I think you need it. _Really_ need it." General Puno immediately noticed the change in accent as he looked up to see the 'subordinate' take off his mask and reach into his pouch.


	67. Together, But Not United

"General! An Allied spy has entered your War Room!"

Mr. Gallo tensely watched as the 'subordinate' drew into his pouch, intently guessing on whether the Spy is pulling out a gun, or worse - a competing arms contract. The Spy drew out an iPad instead.

"Damnit, you Allied Spies keep your filthy capitalist weapons away from him. We already have a contract with General Puno."

The Spy looked at the screen to see a scowling old man in an expensive suit and a Soviet officer's hat. "Necessities of war I see. Have you not been informed that the Red Army is looking for you and your entire air group? Should I inform them that you have instead opened a club along the waterfront in Manila, with some of the missing pilots working there as exquisite dancers? I've heard that desertion is not something the Red Army takes lightly."

"You can't link that club to me, Spy. I have no idea what you're talking about, and if you see those dancing pilots tell them that desertion deserves execution."

"Indeed, and so does gross incompetence. Which has led to your air group being lost in the first place."

"Please, please, gentlemen. No fighting here, this is the War Room. Allow me to introduce you to each other first. Agent Koch, this is Mr., er, _Commander_ Gallo, Soviet Air Force. Commander Gallo, this is Agent Koch, Allied intelligence. I'm sure you haven't met before."

The spy and the the general knowingly smirked at each other. They knew they met just eleven chapters ago under more stressful conditions; they breathed a hushed sigh of relief that the Filipinos not identify them when they infiltrated the same Workshop by accident.

"But seriously guys, you really have to stop spying on our Workshops. Our Bear Cavaliers have already identified both of you and the Shinobi from far away already."

Slightly embarrassed, Agent Koch glanced to the side as Mr. Gallo slumped back into his seat. Koch then put the coffee aside and his iPad in front of the general. "This may concern you, but according to our drones, the _Chrysanthemum_ has begun a southerly route, apparently towards Manila."

Mr. Gallo frowned. "That's what I'm about to say as well, you know, before you butted in."

General Puno just looked at Mr. Gallo, then signaled Agent Koch to continue. "You have already fought the Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_, and are probably wondering what is it, and more importantly, how to deal with it. I have been cleared by my handlers to release some information concerning this class of vessels based on previous encounters with it." "First thing you need to know is..."

An officer disturbed Agent Koch's debriefing. "General, someone on the line. It's the captain of _Chrysanthemum_. Shall I patch him in?"

"Very well. Standard chat-with-the-enemy screens." General Puno watched as the hundred-or-so screens of the War Room flickered a bit and changed their displays to various official-looking (but intentionally misleading) charts and maps. "We're going live in 5... 4... 3... 2...wait. Display 143, update your screen before you receive sterner sanctions." Agent Koch looked at the errant TV screen, saw the display, and chuckled as the screen changed its display to a random map of Manila - in 1910.

General Puno did one more check of the screens, fixed his uniform and practiced his official officer's serious-face, and continued. "We're going live... now."

The screens in front of General Puno changed again, multiple screens linked together in one display for a live streaming video conversation with Commander Bara.

"Good day opponent. I am Commander Bara of the Battlebase _Chrysanthemum_. I ask you to power down your Chronosphere in Pasay."

There was an awkward pause.

Commander Puno broke the awkward silence. "Good day to you too. Sorry to say this, but I don't think we are willing to power down the Chronosphere. It does not suit Filipino interests. Unless you have a counterproposal perhaps? Say, leave our country be and we shall power down the Chronosphere?"

"Hm, how about if we make the assimilation process into the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere easier for you, in exchange for powering down the Chronosphere and to stop resisting us."

"I do not think Filipino and Japanese interests intersect at a reasonable compromise, Commander Bara."

"So do I, General Puno. But nonetheless, we expect you to power down your Chronosphere within a week. The _Chrysanthemum_ will be sending some live ordnance to assist in the deactivation of the Chronosphere as well, though willingly shutting it down would be safer for the surroundings." Then the screen faded to black. Commander Bara ended the call.

Agent Koch glanced back at his iPad. "Well, not like that guy can't enforce what he wants; that Battlebase is immune to almost all conventional weapons by virtue of its sheer bulk and multiple-redundancy repair abilities. It's safe to say that the vessel is virtually indestructible..."

"Your 'debriefing' is just depressing the general even more!" Commander Gallo interrupted.

"Let me finish, you grumpy geriatric gunrunner. So anyway, the vessel is virtually indestructible except for its weakpoint: two power cores that can be captured. Once both of them are captured, engineers can overload the power cores and destroy the vessel inside out. Unfortunately, the ship is heavily-guarded, so it's not that easy to just slip in Guardia Negra."

General Puno looked at the iPad providing a continuous feed. He noticed that the Battlebase barely nudged at all, but smaller vessels in the iPad seemingly traced away from the blockish Battlebase. "Looks like their Battlebase has begun to inch towards Manila then. And these smaller vessels? By the outline of some of them, this looks like an MCV."

"Well, these floating islands don't seem to be very mobile, based on our previous encounters with them. The bunch of smaller vessels you see seems to be a Japanese Surface Action Group - a Battleship flotilla with supporting vessels. I'd guess the Battlebase to arrive in a matter of days, the battleships in a matter of hours."

General Puno stared long and hard at the now-cold coffee. "Looks like we have to make ourselves ready then."


End file.
